


Future Tense

by Medie



Series: Titan [1]
Category: Star Trek: Enterprise, Star Trek: Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe, Crossover, F/M, Original Characters - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-07-25
Updated: 2010-07-25
Packaged: 2017-10-10 19:39:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 26,345
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/103527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Medie/pseuds/Medie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Well...they say no one ever really dies in Star Trek...they're not wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [ Metamorphosis](http://www.livejournal.com/users/oxoniensis/142321.html) challenge [](http://oxoniensis.livejournal.com/profile)[**oxoniensis**](http://oxoniensis.livejournal.com/).
> 
> She assigned me the title of the Enterprise episode Future Tense and I remembered what I wanted to Future Tense to incorporate. It sort of did but didn't and then the premise I came up with didn't fit with the episode events so I did as the challenge suggested and wrote a fic based on the title not the ep.
> 
> Also, the Soleta of this story is not the Peter David character of the same name.

_Time is such a mercurial task master. A universal constant, all species whether affected by it or not, are aware of it and it's passage. To step outside of it as the Prophets do does not eliminate its presence or its hold on the universe. To exist within it as humanity, and other such races, do is to see time as linear. Immutable. Unable to be changed. To be lived through and to follow along with as one follows the current of a river._

_However, time turned out to be not as linear as humanity believed for so long. Accidental discoveries proved time could be changed and with that, time lost it's immutability in humanity's eyes. Time became defined by perception and the perception of it was fragmented. Time became moments. Moments where a captain in one century makes a decision that will change the lives of people living centuries ahead of him. Wars are touched off, fought and resolved, great moments in history endangered and saved, and all of it because of the perceptions of those within it..._

_Time has become a story defined by it's characters and heaven help us all if the characters realize it..._

-

The _USS Titan_, Starfleet's latest best and brightest, streaked space at high warp, her gleaming lights a stark contrast against the blackness of space. She was the pride of her new captain and crew and had more than lived up to the expectations placed upon her. Starfleet had expected her, and her captain, to perform to the high standards they'd set and perform she had. Though fresh from spacedock with an untested crew, her captain had proven himself more than apt in his selection of his command staff and together, the ship, crew, and captain were already beginning to make a name for themselves. A name outside of the one Captain Riker had made for himself as First Officer of the _USS Enterprise_.

It was an accomplishment Will was more than a little proud of. Now, if he could manage to find time for a night alone with his wife, his life would be complete. And to that end, he'd spent weeks planning just such a night. All that remained, was the execution of said plan which, Will was beginning to learn, was easier said than done.

"Absolutely no interruptions. Remember that." Holding up his forefinger, the captain directed it at the Klingon woman sitting in the chair before his desk and grinned. "None whatsoever. I don't care if Q shows up with the Borg Queen and demands to play a hand of poker, no interruptions."

"There will be no interruptions whatsoever, sir," she said, the twinkle of laughter hidden in her sharp eyes belying the solemnity of that promise. "Understood. The bridge duty officer has been ordered that for nothing short of the warp core actually breaching is he to call you." With a slightly feral grin, she added, "I even made him swear a blood oath upon the head of his firstborn son."

"Now you're just patronizing me, Kitara," he complained, getting up from desk and walking toward the door.

"Begging the captain's pardon, no I'm not," she said, rising to join him.

Will slanted a look across at her as they left his Ready Room and crossed the bridge to the waiting turbolift. "Kit -- "

She grinned again as she stepped into the lift with him. "Hmm, maybe just a little. " Holding up her fingers, she demonstrated. "But only a little."

"Hmph," was the captain's response. "Deck Five." He looked over at her. "Did it get here?"

"Mmhmm," Kitara nodded once then gave her destination before continuing. "Deck Three - I had Radowski beam it directly to your quarters. The designated coordinates you gave me. He about had a coronary event when he saw exactly where those coordinates were. Not that I can blame him, you really had him beam it into your _closet_?"

"I did," Will said. "I checked the coordinates myself. They're good."

She shook her head. "They'd better be. Otherwise, we're going to have the devil's own time getting it out of the wall and _you_ have to explain it to Drew."

Riker chuckled. "I thought that's what I had a First Officer for."

"Oh, no. I'm sorry to inform you, sir, my duties do not extend to covering up the Captain's screw ups when they're committed in the execution of a romantic endeavor."

"So much for Klingon loyalty," he teased.

She smirked. "I am half-human."

"Oh sure, use _that_ excuse."

The lift came to a stop at Deck Three, the doors sliding open to let the Commander out. Not entirely done, she turned back to her captain with an almost cheeky grin. "Why not? It's always worked before."

The lift's doors slid shut on the Captain's answer.

\---

"Will, what have you done?" Walking into the spacious quarters she shared with her husband, Deanna Troi realized just exactly why her sense of him had been so clouded as of late. She'd assumed it had more to do with the bustle and distractions of settling in on the _Titan_ and the subsequent missions Starfleet had assigned them. Things had been more hectic than she could ever recall them being and she hadn't been surprised that Will's thoughts had been a jumble to her. Now, standing in the middle of the living area, looking at the room around her...she had another reason. Will had been distracted but she wasn't sure exactly how much of his distraction could be attributed to the _Titan_ and how much of it had to do with _this_. It was glorious.

An amazed smile played about her lips as she took it all in. The lighting was set to the lowest level and he'd supplemented it with candlelight, there was jazz music playing quietly, and the coffee table was decked out with a fine variety of her favorite foods. A fluffy, sinfully comfortable throw that had been a wedding present from Beverly was decorating the floor by the coffee table and the sofa that had previously occupied the space was nowhere to be seen.

Her smile turned wicked when she realized almost all the foods were finger foods. A good choice, she knew that well enough, they'd never be able to keep their hands off each other long enough to actually eat a full meal.

_'Planning ahead, Imzadi?'_ She couldn't resist teasing. "How long have you had this in the works?"

Stepping out of the shadows, Will returned the grin and pulled her into his arms. "A while." He leaned down to kiss her, taking his time in doing so. "Kitara helped a bit. We've been so busy lately, I thought we needed time alone." He brought her hand to his lips, brushing a kiss over her wedding ring before planting a kiss in her palm. "I think I was starting to forget what you looked like."

Deanna laughed. "As if you ever could." She kissed him again then slipped free to sample the waiting dishes. One caught her eye and she reached out to skim a finger across its surface, bringing it too her mouth for inspection. "Alderian chocolate pudding?" She turned with a delighted smile. "Will..."

"Look closer." He instructed, walking to her. "You'll notice there's not a dish on the table that isn't chocolate related."

She looked again and sighed. "I knew there was a reason I married you." Turning in his arms, she reached for him with body and mind. _'And with all the planning you've put into this, I think I'm going to have to work very hard on thanking you.'_

Will chuckled low in his throat, the rumbling sound never failing to thrill her. _'I was counting on it, Imzadi.'_ He promised, hands stealing over her body and finding his favorite places. The sensations his touch evoked in her traveled from her to him and back again, the feelings they brought out in each other, echoing back and forth until neither one knew from which they first came. Neither one cared. They were all that they were and where one began and where one ended mattered little to the sum of the whole.

Slipping her arms about his neck, Deanna pulled herself closer as her uniform fell away from her body and the thought skittered through their minds, though neither one knew who thought it, _'Absolutely no interruptions...'_

\-------

Though there was no night or day in space, all Starfleet vessels maintained a day and night schedule. The enforced artificial night meant the lighting in the non essential areas on the lower decks were kept to a lower level and the shifts had a smaller assigned compliment of crew. Most importantly, the command staff got their rest. Or, at least, in theory they did. The bridge duty officer operated under strict regulations so that in the event the ship encountered something that met those requirements, the captain and first officer were notified immediately.

Before officially turning the bridge over to the Beta shift's duty officer, Kitara had cautioned him yet again as to the conditions of that night. She'd made it quite clear in no uncertain terms that the captain was not to be disturbed if something did arise. She was to be called first - which was a matter of protocol anyway - and then she would make the decision as to whether or not to call the captain. She had hoped nothing would require their attention that night but she also knew Will and Deanna had brought the _Enterprise_ curse along with them when they'd taken postings on the _Titan_.

Everyone in Starfleet had heard of the _Enterprise_ curse. It had begun with Jonathan Archer and the _Enterprise NX-01_ over two hundred years before and continued on with every successive _Enterprise_ since. The fantastical became normal and tended to happen at the exact moments one wished they wouldn't. More than one Starfleet officer had remarked it almost seemed as if the universe were controlled by an outside force hellbent on keeping the crews of the legendary vessels on their toes.

Kitara believed it. But then again, she was half-Klingon and such ideas weren't out of the realm of rationality to Klingons. Thus, she lingered up not wanting to get ready for bed only to be called out of it by the Lieutenant on duty. Her mother, a rather mercurial woman from Ireland, had oft talked about the proverbial watched pot. Her daughter had teased her about it more than once but if she hadn't believed it before, she did when - seconds after her head touched the pillow - the comm chimed and the bridge duty officer's voice echoed through the air.

"Bridge to Commander Kitara."

She groaned and muttered a Klingon oath that would've had her father cuffing her about the ears. "Yes?"

"Sorry to wake you, Ma'am," the Lieutenant - Conrad, her mind belatedly supplied - apologized, "but you said you absolutely didn't want the captain disturbed and - "

"No, we don't want the captain disturbed." Kitara agreed, quirking a wry grin, throwing back the covers and getting up. No, they definitely didn't want the captain disturbed. Will couldn't have made that one any clearer if he'd tattooed it on her forehead. Which, she quite firmly believed, would have been his next step if she'd dared teased him one more time. She couldn't really blame him. Newlyweds deserved more time together than Starfleet had bothered give them. They'd been hard-pressed in the first few months of the mission to find anytime together and, like any good executive officer would, Kitara had been only to happy to conspire with her captain to arrange some time. "What is it?"

"Well, " Even over the comm, Conrad's hesitation was apparent and caused his commanding officer to stop in her tracks. A feeling of foreboding crept up her spine as she listened. "That's the thing, ma'am. We aren't entirely sure."

Kitara closed her eyes, pushing a hand through her thick black hair. She had a suspicion that while the warp core wasn't breaching, she was going to be calling the captain out of bed. She only hoped Will was in a forgiving mood when she did. Conrad was still half-terrified of her but he was a competent officer and not the type to disturb her on a frivolous matter. He'd demonstrated almost Klingon determination to perform his duties without aid of his superiors. "Lieutenant, exactly what aren't you sure of?" she prompted, propelling herself forward to her dresser again.

"You're going to need to see this one for yourself, Commander," he answered finally. "There's no real way to explain this. I mean, I'm not sure exactly what to make of this myself. No one is at the moment."

She sighed heavily at that and nodded even though he couldn't see her. "All right, I'm on my way. Kitara out." Reaching for her uniform pants, she shook her head. "One night. All he wanted was _one_ night."

Damn curse.

\----

"Kitara to Captain Riker."

The regretful voice of his first officer intruding into the darkness made both husband and wife groan in dismay. So much for their night off.

Will gave Deanna a tender kiss of apology on her bare shoulder then, out of years of habit, looked ceiling-ward as he answered, "Yes, Commander?"

Deanna laughed at the brisk, but embarrassed, voice of the Klingon woman when she began to explain. "Sir, I hate to disturb you, but we've found something and you're going to want to see it."

Much as his exec had done a scant few hours before, Will groaned, threw back the covers and got out of bed. "Exactly what is it I'm going to want to see, Commander?" He asked as Deanna slipped out of bed as well and went to get a fresh uniform for him. She returned to his side a few moments later with it in hand and began helping him into it, her fingers slipping teasingly over his skin. He grinned at her and stole a quiet kiss.

"The night shift's found something rather interesting -- a torpedo tube." The first officer answered crisply as though she were standing in his Ready Room, giving him the morning briefing.

Will stopped in the midst of fastening his shirt to share a bewildered look with his wife. "A torpedo tube?" He'd made it expressly clear to Kitara that he hadn't wanted to be disturbed. She'd assured him that she would disturb them for nothing less than a full scale red alert and she'd called them over a torpedo tube? "Kit - " He began in warning.

"Yes sir," she agreed crisply, cutting him off. "A torpedo tube from the _NX-01_, sir. The _Enterprise_."

"The _NX-01_?"

"Archer's _Enterprise_?" Deanna's eyes widened with the realization, her reaction echoing her husband's feelings on the matter. "Are you absolutely sure, Commander?"

"Without a doubt," the first officer affirmed. "Checked and rechecked."

"Still not seeing the urgency here, Kit." Will said, smiling at Deanna as - still nude and heedless of it - stepped forward to help him with his jacket. She stayed that close and emergency or no, he wasn't leaving.

"Well, Captain," his XO sounded almost smug as she responded, "we've detected a life sign aboard it. That urgent enough?"

Deanna grinned at him, sharing Kitara's mirth, and he scowled. At who, he didn't ask himself. Women.

Laughing openly, his wife stretched up to kiss him. "Go," she urged gently. "He's on his way, Commander. Riker out."

"You," Will informed his wife, as soon as the channel was closed, "are terrible." He gave her a lazy grin, his hands sliding along her bare arms, thumbs rubbing in small circles over her skin.

"Mmmhmmm," Deanna smiled wickedly and melted closer for a kiss. "I am. Always." They traded leisurely kissed for some moments then she stepped away in search of her favorite robe. Without asking, Will knew she was getting ready just in case they'd need her and he had a feeling they would. Whoever it was in that torpedo tube had been there for two hundred years. If they made it - if they survived - they were in for one hell of a shock.

Two hundred years was a long time to take a nap.

\----

Kitara met him at the turbolift. A tall woman, she was easily eye to eye with her captain and Will didn't miss the apology warring for excitement in hers. He hid a grin as the doors slid open and they stepped in. She was as giddy as a schoolgirl over the discovery but hell if she'd ever show it. Back on the _Enterprise_ he'd had some dealings with the half-Klingon, she would have been - in fact - his first officer on the _Melbourne_ if either one of them had taken the assignment. Kit, as he'd discovered in that time, was hardly what anyone expected her to be and delighted in that fact. She'd admitted as much to him. She found it advantageous in the execution of her duties to continually keep some people on edge. It made things interesting as well as being highly useful.

Will had found he was coming to depend on that skill as well as the deceptive calm she presented to the world. Deanna had remarked on the illusion of still waters more than once when it came to his first officer and seeing Kitara through his wife's eyes, he was inclined to believe it. Heaven help the person who ever stirred those waters. "Don't say it." he warned with a wry smile as she turned to face the doors, a tiny grin playing about her mouth.

"Say what?" she asked. "Deck 22." The aside comment to the computer went unacknowledged as she continued, "I wasn't going to say a thing."

"Sure you weren't," he said. "Sorry, Commander, but innocence and Klingon brow ridges just don't mix."

Kitara grimaced and nodded reluctant agreement. "You got me there, sir. Never worked on my mother, either."

He chuckled at that. "So, life sign you say?"

"Life sign," she affirmed. "We scanned it to verify then, when it was cleared, transported it to Sickbay. Just as soon as Engineering figures how to open€ the thing, Ren's on hand to examine whoever's in there. Hopefully, we'll be able to entirely revive them. The vitals seem stable enough - in stasis we think - but there's no guarantees."

"We haven't opened it yet? Why not?"

"Well," his XO scowled, making herself look more ominous than usual, "the damn thing is what Mom would call booby-trapped. One of Ren's assistants tried to open it and received a nasty little electrical shock for his trouble. Second degree burns to go with it. He's fine but that convinced me to get Drew and Soleta out of bed. They've been working on it ever since and if they're getting nowhere - "

"It's highly likely somebody doesn't want that tube opened." He finished for her as the lift came to a stop, the doors opening to deposit them on the designated deck. "Or, at least, not opened by the wrong person."

"What I can't figure out is where the damned thing came from. I studied the _NX-01_'s missions at the Academy and I don't remember them ever having a burial in space and certainly not in this sector." Kitara frowned again, falling into step with her captain. "And I'm quite certain I don't reading about them accidentally shooting a live crew member into space."

"You and me both," he agreed thoughtfully. "Of course, if our guest was alive when he or she -- "

"Or it," she supplied.

"Or it," he acknowledged with a quick grin, "was put in there, and nothing about it went into the Captain's Log, " he frowned, echoing her expression, "the question has to be - Why?"

"I can't think of anything good." She put forward after a moment's thought, continuing to keep pace with him as they neared sickbay. "Didn't he have a run in with the Khans?"

"An offshoot of them." He agreed. "You don't think -"

"I hope not."

"You wouldn't be the only one. Imagine Starfleet Command's reaction if we had to tell them _that_." Entering Sickbay, Will looked for his Chief Medical Officer and found her leaning against the doorframe of her office, watching the bustle of activity across the room. "Anything, Doctor?"

Taija Ren, a friendly looking Trill, lifted her free shoulder in a half-shrug. "Soleta and Drew are still working on getting the tube open. I can't tell you much beyond the fact we're dealing with a human biosign in there. It's faint, but stable."

"Captain," though she didn't raise her voice, Soleta's call easily carried across the spacious room as she greeted them, "Commander, we have discovered something intriguing."

"Something intriguing?" Will observed lightly to his XO as they crossed the room. "Must be Jonathan Archer himself in there for her to be that excited."

Soleta quirked the expected eyebrow at him in silent answer to the teasing comment as they came to a stop across from them. "Commander, I believe you wished to explain?" She said, deferring to the man at her side. "Please do."

Fairly dancing in excitement, Drew blurted out, "Isolinear circuitry -- the torpedo tube's casing has been altered to conceal isolinear circuitry. I'm sure I don't have to tell you, sir, the significance of that."

"No, you definitely don't." Will stared at the glossy surface of the tube, but his scrutiny yielded no answers. If anything, all his mind came up with was more questions. "Isolinear circuitry wasn't even a design concept two hundred years ago, much less in practical use."

"Indeed, and this will further intrigue you sir," Soleta reached out to lightly tap a stylus against the end of the tube nearest to her. "When Mr. Aless attempted to open the tube and received the shock, he inadvertently triggered what I believe to be the pre-programmed response to any sabotage." She lifted her dark gaze to the captain's, giving Will a peek at the restrained excitement in its depths. "The tube is now emitting a subspace signal." Whether it was for dramatic effect or not, he didn't know, but the Vulcan woman paused before adding, "It is addressed to you."

"To me?" Will and Kitara shared a shocked look before turning back to Soleta again. "Are you - " He let that question die unfinished on his lips. Of course she was sure. Even if she hadn't been Vulcan, it wasn't in Soleta's nature to make unqualified statements. He'd known her long enough to know if she said it, she had a basis for it. "Okay, anything else?"

She handed him a PADD in response. "The bulk of the message is encrypted however there is some content which is not. Enough to suggest you will have little difficulty deciphering the rest."

Reading the information on the screen, Will immediately began to understand. "Sara."

\---

"Commander Sara Reed." Turning the console on Ren's desk, Will sat in her chair - having happily commandeered her office - and watched Deanna and Kitara read the information. "We knew each other at the Academy. She was recruited into Intelligence not long after we graduated. Last time I saw her was, _god_. You know I can't remember the last time I actually _saw_ her. She'd drop a subspace message on occasion, but calling that infrequent would be kind."

"Do you think she's the one in the tube?" Deanna asked, sitting across from him in a visitor's chair.

"No." He shook his head. "The message said pretty much along the lines of me taking care of something for her."

"When did Starfleet Intelligence get into the business of time travel?" Kitara wondered aloud, still staring speculatively at the personnel record. "That tube is definitely two hundred years old and definitely from the _NX-01_. It's been sitting out in space ever since it was fired from the _Enterprise_ in 2153. The modifications had to have been made at that point in time." She looked up, her gaze traveling from the counselor to the captain. "What was - is - a Starfleet officer from the 24th century doing in 2153?"

"Whatever it is," Will mused quietly, sharing a considering look with his wife, "Starfleet isn't likely to share it over subspace." He frowned. "They might not even want to admit she's actually still in the 'Fleet."

"In all likelihood," Deanna began, "Sara has already included everything you need to know in the tube. She's always been an extremely methodical officer. I can't imagine she'd go through the trouble of taking the time and risk to prepare the torpedo tube without making certain you had all the information you would require."

"If she did, she certainly made certain it wouldn't be easy to get at." He complained good-naturedly. "Soleta and Drew have been at that for..."

"Oh you have _got_ to be kidding me?" The loud exclamation from the main area of sickbay instantly drew their attention. There, through the lightly frosted glass, they could see Drew's face fill with equal parts amusement and annoyance.

"Think they found something," Will noted, dry, as he rose. "Commander? What's all the fuss?"

Raking a hand through his short hair, leaving it in utter disarray, the younger man looked at his approaching commanding officer sheepishly. "Sorry, Captain," he apologized immediately, "but Soleta managed to access the computer systems in the tube and - " he shook his head, " - she can tell you."

"The commander is less than enthused to discover he has spent the past few hours engaged in the pursuit of wild game." Soleta put in, her choice of words bringing wry grins to the other officer's faces.

"A wild goose chase?" Deanna translated around a laugh.

"Precisely." The science officer nodded then handed her PADD to the captain once more. "When I accessed the systems concealed within the tube, I discovered a vocal activation subroutine."

"You mean all we had to do was _talk to it_?" Will stared in disbelief, he was beginning to feel that a lot it seemed, at the PADD's display. "Oh, you have got to be kidding me."

Kitara took the PADD from the captain's numb fingers and gave it a quick scan. "It's a little more complex than a simple voice print but, essentially, that is all he has to do." She chuckled. "Oh."

"Next time I see Sara, remind me to wring her neck." Will remarked tiredly to his wife.

And, with that, something within the tube beeped in acknowledgment and broke the seal, air hissing out in a rush as the tube unlocked.

_'It looks like Sara knew how you'd react, Imzadi.'_ Deanna's laughter rippled warmly through his thoughts and he smiled in her direction.

When Soleta dryly remarked the same of Sara's intentions moments later, Deanna didn't bother holding back her laughter. Soleta's response was a look that might have been unreadable to anyone unfamiliar with her, but to Will and Deanna both translated as fond amusement. Will counted it a silent victory that, here, she felt comfortable enough to let it show. Her service on the Enterprise had always been a quiet one. Unlike her father before her, Soleta had eschewed most bridge shifts even before she'd been promoted to department head and had avoided most situations that might have landed her in a more prominent position. Didn't take Deanna's psychology background to figure out she'd been doing her best to avoid the inevitable comparisons to her father and understandably. She hadn't even sought out the Enterprise posting, rather Starfleet had all but forced her into it. Ever the perfect Vulcan, she'd done her duty without any apparent complaint, but her ready agreement to a Titan posting told the tale in Will's opinion.

Either way, he was glad to have her. Gladder still to see her enjoying herself.

"Commander Kitara," she continued, advancing on the tube, "I require your assistance."

Kitara did precisely as asked then, grinning, warned, "If I get shocked across the room, Commander, I won't be too happy when I wake up."

"Understood," Soleta said. "Doctor, you may wish to prepare for the necessary treatment."

"Oh I'm ready, impatient, but ready," Ren said, holding up her medical tricorder in acknowledgment. "Hurry up."

"I don't think she's talking about our guest, Doctor," Will commented with a little grin.

"I was not," Soleta said. "If Commander Kitara is injured, I may find myself suddenly arriving very near death's door." Feigning ignorance as to the reasons for the laughter around her, she looked to the executive officer once more. "Ready?"

Kitara nodded and they laid hands to the cover. For a second, both tensed as though expecting another shock. It never came. "Safety protocols must've been deactivated when it opened," Kitara observed, the muscles in her arms barely flexing as she and Soleta lifted the heavy cover away to reveal a youthful man in the uniform of a 22nd century Starfleet officer.

The group of officers stared in silent surprise at him for a long moment. Whatever they had been expecting in the case, all were quite sure this wasn't it.

"Son of a bitch," Drew breathed, breaking the hush. In the silence of the room it sounded as loud as a phaser blast.

"Commander?" Will prompted automatically, when Deanna nudged him, her mind communicating to him what she'd sensed from Drew. "Something to share?"

"Yes, sir." Drew Tucker lifted his head, as Ren moved forward, tricorder open and at the ready to take further readings. "I know him, sir."

"I suspect, Commander, we all do," Soleta said. "Few Federation citizens are unfamiliar with the crew of the _NX-01_."

Will groaned. He knew he wasn't wrong, but that didn't stop him from wishing to be. "You're kidding me, right?"

"I am not," Soleta said.

Looking at the face of Charles Tucker, the Third, Will shook his head. "The paperwork on this is going to be a nightmare."


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well...they say no one ever really dies in Star Trek...they're not wrong.

With Commander Tucker in stasis and not much good for answers, they were left with not much more to go on than before they'd opened the tube. The few questions they'd had before had now managed to snowball into a plethora which would not be answered until he was awake and communicative.

However, with her patient freed of confinement and in need of treatment, Ren wasn't about to let any of them sit around and wait. Invoking doctor's privilege, Taija kicked the lot of them out of sickbay allowing only Drew and Soleta to remain. Intent on examining the jury-rigged stasis pod for any further answers it could provide, they'd pointed out that any information they might glean from it would be of assistance to Ren and, thus, the doctor had to agree.

The other officers, however, had no such arguments and instead scattered to their duties. Deanna, concerned for the stunned Drew, whisked him away to her office for an impromptu counseling session while her husband was left in the worst position possible. Waiting while his officers worked to find answers. Since neither he, nor Kitara, were any good at waiting, the duo retreated to his Ready Room.

"Raktajino, right?" Will inquired, going to the replicator.

Kitara nodded once, taking a seat on the couch. "You're the experienced time traveler, Will," she began, comfortable in dropping the titles within the privacy of the ready room, "just what do you think is going on here? My history book tells me the man lying in sickbay shouldn't be there. Charles Tucker lived a full life, had a family, and passed beyond nearly two centuries ago. Yet..."

"He shows up in a modified torpedo tube, two steps away from Sto'vo'kor, in the 24th century but very much still in the land of the living?" Will passed her the steaming mug and retreated to his desk, his own mug of coffee in hand. "I wish the hell I knew. Sara clearly expects me to do something with the Commander but...I'll be damned if I have the faintest clue what it is. I'm hoping either Soleta finds something in the tube or Ren can revive him and he can tell me himself...otherwise, I'm absolutely lost."

Sighing, Kitara brought the mug of raktajino to her lips, taking a long swallow. "Perhaps," she suggested after a moment, "we should at least attempt to track down the last known assignment of Commander Reed. Starfleet might not be able to tell us where she is now..."

"But they might at least be able to tell us something of where she's been and that might lead us to some answers..." Will nodded. "Let's try it. Riker to Lieutenant Conrad."

"Conrad here, sir." The young man replied obediently over the comm.

"Come in here for a minute."

Almost before he'd completed the order, the doors slid open to reveal the young man. "Yes, Captain?"

"I need to try and track down the whereabouts of a Starfleet Intelligence agent by the name of Commander Sara Reed. Highest priority, understand?" Will asked briskly, hiding his amusement at the young man's nervous manner. Competent though he was, Conrad was still unaccustomed to being in such close quarters with his commanding officers, hadn't quite worked the nerves out yet. "Estimated turn around time of the message?"

"At this distance, sir, it's going to be the better part of the day." Conrad looked regretful as he answered. "That includes, of course, the estimated time it would take them to the request and respond."

"Understood. Get on it. Dismissed." Will waited until the lieutenant had retreated from the ready room to grin at Kitara. "Were we ever that young?"

"I wasn't." His exec responded with a serenity that would've made Soleta greener with envy. "You, however..." She grinned. "I have it on good authority that you were indeed younger."

"Deanna's been telling tales again, hasn't she?" Will complained good-naturedly, eyes warming at the very thought of her.

Kitara smiled, as much as she ever did, and commented, "You look like my father does when he speaks of my mother." She sighed. "Perhaps, the next time you wish private time with your wife, we should not speak of it. Making audible comments seems to alert the universe to your plans in time for it to disrupt them."

"Deal." Will agreed. "I'm actually starting to believe that curse nonsense. Nothing like this ever happened to me before I took the assignment on the _Enterprise_."

Unable to resist, Kitara snorted then pointed out, "What about the transporter accident at Nervala IV? Having a transporter-created clone running around the galaxy is hardly normal." She grinned at the perplexed look on his face. "Now how exactly do you propose to explain that one, Captain?"

"Predestination," he declared after giving it some thought. "I was always meant to be the first officer of the _Enterprise_ so the curse automatically came into effect the moment I was born." He laughed, seeing her skeptical expression. "I thought Klingons were a superstitious race."

"We are also very practical," she said, quick and smart. "Thus, we can recognize when we are being sold a line of Targ droppings. You do not believe a word of what you just said."

"No," Will admitted with a gleam of mischief in his eye. "But it was a good story."

Kitara rolled her eyes in aggravated amusement, unable to resist jibing, "How Deanna puts up with you, I'll never know. A Klingon woman would have disemboweled you long ago."

Her commanding officer chuckled, relaxing further. "My wife is a wonderfully tolerant woman from an exceptionally patient species." He grinned wryly. "And deserves better."

"A fact you'd do well to never forget," Kitara said with a smile. "Not for an instant."

"Never." Will cast an eye in the direction of an old-style photograph from their Terran wedding. Deanna radiant in her gown, smiling up at him. "Absolutely never."

"Rest assured that you are far smarter than you look, William Riker." The Klingon woman commended, a twinkle in her dark eyes.

"Imagine my relief," he countered. "I can now--"

_"Ren to Captain Riker."_ The calm voice of the Chief Medical Officer very effectively cut off his reply and shattered the relaxed atmosphere all with four little words.

Snapping to attention, Will put down his coffee, his gaze meeting his XO's as he warily answered, "Yes Doctor?"

"You'd better get down here. I've found something you're going to want to see."

Both officers were on their feet before either of them realized it, starting toward the door. "We're on our way, Doctor." Will assured as Kitara cast a grimace down at her half-empty mug.

"Just once....I'd like to finish one of these," she said, backtracking to abandon the raktajino on the desk.

"I'll have Ren take it under advisement next time." Riker assured. "We can't deprive you of your coffee."

"It would not be advisable, sir."

\-----

Soleta and Ren were standing at Commander Tucker's bedside when Riker and Kitara returned to Sickbay. Both women were watching the readouts above the biobed, conversing quietly.

"Something to tell us, Doctor?" Will said briskly, interrupting them.

"A few somethings." The unflappable Trill agreed moving away from the biobed to the larger wall console. "A few very interesting somethings actually."

"Like?" Kitara prompted, watching the screen as the doctor assessed the records she would require.

"Our visiting Commander Tucker has had neural surgery recently, " said Ren, gesturing to a representation of the afflicted area. "Fatal surgery I might add. The work was exceptionally well done and the physician clearly was highly skilled and tried *not* to cause death....but that was the end result nonetheless." She turned back to the stunned command officers and continued, "By the look of it, I believe the surgery was performed by Dr. Phlox, the Chief Medical Officer of the time, using the equipment of the day. It also appears that very soon after death, emergency care seems to have been administered using more sophisticated equipment. I'd wager that was Commander Reed using an emergency medkit she brought with her. The neural stimulation would not have been possible with 22nd century equipment."

"In that vein, given my examination of the modifications to the torpedo tube, it is my belief that Commander Reed was behind that as well as the stasis equipment and other circuitry is the most modern we have available at this time." Soleta interjected, ever-present PADD in hand. "In all likelihood, the work on the tube took the Commander several months working in secret to complete. There are signs of abrupt cessation and resumption of the work."

"She knew she was going to be doing this sometime before any of it actually occurred." Will mused, staring at the screen as an idea began to form in the back of his mind. "What exactly was the intent of the surgery?"

"Neural tissue was harvested. For what purpose remains unclear but it was removed...I have repaired the damage. That was easy enough to do with our current level of technology but it would have been beyond Dr. Phlox. Medical technology at that point was advanced but not nearly to the level we have achieved..." Ren paused to clear her throat. "Which brings me to my next point." She returned to the biobed and rested a hand on her patient's shoulder. "This is not Commander Charles Tucker. At least...not the Charles Tucker history records as being the Chief Engineer of the _Enterprise NX-01_."

She might have lobbed a photon grenade into the center of the room and gotten less of a reaction. Soleta, already aware of that knowledge, didn't so much as blink but the captain and first officer gaped at the Trill in shock as if she'd just pulled off a mask and revealed herself to be the Grand Nagus himself.

"If he's not Commander Tucker," Riker observed finally, still stunned, "he's doing a damned good impersonation of him." He waited for his CMO to elaborate and when she didn't, he asked the question she'd been waiting for. "All right, Doctor, if he isn't Commander Tucker...then just who is he exactly?"

"A clone." Soleta answered instead. "A clone grown from species known as Lyssarrian Desert Larvae more commonly referred to as Lyssarrian symbionts."

Before either the captain or first officer could question it, the resident Trill smiled and shook her head, "No relation. Lyssarrian symbionts are not sentient and are used primarily in research and treatment settings. They can gain sentience if cloned however..." She patted her patient's shoulder to emphasize her point. "Like the good Commander here."

"So, this man's a clone." Will looked down at the comatose man with a thoughtful frown. "Might explain why there's no record of him in the _Enterprise'_s logs. The last thing Starfleet would want would be historical record of their heroic captain being the first one to break the eugenics laws."

"It certainly would do much to damage the captain's reputation among humans." Soleta agreed stoically, consulting her PADD.

Ren passed the diagnostic wand of her tricorder over Tucker's unconscious body one more time, checking the readings on his vitals. "Hmm...meaning Archer's reputation among Vulcans couldn't get worse?" She stole a teasing glance at the science officer's impassive features. "If I remember my captains correctly, he was the one involved in the destruction of the sanctuary at P'Jem right?"

"He was." The petite Vulcan agreed, unruffled. "However, it would be highly illogical to bear ill will toward a man for an incident which occurred a generation ago." She consulted the readings Ren was taking, loading them onto her PADD for further contemplation. "In any case, Captain Archer was later instrumental in the recovery of an archive of Surak's teachings confirming the very sentiments my family had been espousing for generations, there was much political turmoil in that time. The recovery of the Kir'Shara gave the High Council and Vulcan itself a much needed injection of stability. In essence, we owe him one," she finished with a lift of her brow.

"Really?" Riker looked impressed, turning to watch her with interest. "I don't remember hearing about that."

"You would not." Soleta assured. "We do not talk of it."

"I remember it though." Ren put in, reaching for a hypo. "I was on Vulcan at the time, a part of a Trill delegation involved in negotiations," she looked amused as she shrugged. "You know how the Vulcans are, Will. They hate discussing their internal politics and problems with outworlders. Which, I'm afraid, we both are."

"To say hate is to mis-speak, Doctor." The resident Vulcan corrected. "We neither hate nor love it. We simply do not discuss it."

Her words had her crewmates sharing a grin. Vulcans.

"My apologies Commander." Taija sketched a bow. "I stand corrected."

An alarm sounding on the panel above the biobed cut short Soleta's reply as everyone looked down in surprise to find their 'guest' stirring.

"I thought as much, he's beginning to wake up," said Ren, moving to bring the hypospray to Tucker's throat.

Before she could make contact and administer the sedative, the captain's hand caught hers and halted the motion. "No. Let him come around. We've got some questions and the only way we're going to get the answers we want is through the Commander here. Besides," at this he smiled, "aren't you the least bit curious?" Pointing a finger at Soleta, he let his smile become a teasing grin. "Don't try to convince me you're not, Soleta, I know you better than that."

The Vulcan didn't attempt to argue. Instead, she inclined her head in acknowledgment then looked at Ren. "He is fit to regain consciousness."

"He is," the doctor agreed reluctantly. "But, this is going to be a shock for him. I was hoping to have some time to discuss it with Counselor Troi first, it's my understanding she has had experience in these matters."

"She has." Will affirmed, bringing a hand to his communicator. "Riker to Troi."

_"Here."_ She responded over the comm a split second later.

"Commander Tucker's waking up."

_"On my way."_

\-----

With the news Commander Tucker was regaining consciousness, Deanna politely excused herself from her scheduled appointment and headed for sickbay. She had already taken the time to review all the pertinent information on the subject she could find, her own notes from a similar incident on the Enterprise among them. Her focus now was on trying to get a sense of the Commander. Hampered by the lack of data on the clone and his emotional state, she'd made do with the psychiatric evaluations of the original Commander Charles Tucker III. It gave her a basic background on the psychology of the man but she only hoped her empathic sense would be able to fill in the blanks. Even if genetic memory had played a factor, the clone would have had a different - albeit accelerated - upbringing than the one he remembered. It would create a certain disconnect from his originator. Which was, Deanna hoped, what her abilities would help her determine.

Finding his mind was relatively easy, given his close proximity to Will. Will was the steady grounding presence that existed as a constant in her mind. She would be aware of him, she thought, no matter where he went or what distance lay between them. There was no basis for this fact in science but Deanna knew it as surely as she knew the sun rose on Betazed every day. With a quick indrawn breath, she anchored her awareness in his sense then reached out and began the task of eliminating the others. The surging, fierce emotions which immediately coursed through her were easily identified as Kitara and put aside. The next to draw her attention was the perpetually confusing presence of the symbiont within Taija. She paused for a moment, picturing Ren's amusement at the confusion joined Trill caused in most telepathic races. The doctor had admitted long enjoying said reaction. In all of her hosts.

The memory of the gleeful look on the redhead's face made Deanna smile as she emerged from the turbolift, again beginning her mental exercise. Soleta's mind was the last to be identified, the conflicting layers of cool logical thought patterns superimposed over the fiery passionate nature were as unmistakably her as a fingerprint. Forever a fascinating contrast for her empathic friend.

With her shipmates carefully blocked from her awareness, Deanna was left with the slowly-awakening mind of the commander. Caught in the nebulous ground which lay between asleep and awake, he had yet to discover what had happened to him. The inevitable confusion that realization would bring had yet to cloud his emotions, leaving him untouched. In the stereotypical calm before the storm, Deanna took her time to get a proper sense of the man before turning her sense outward. Standing now at his bedside, she look at the waiting officers. "I think it will be somewhat overwhelming to wake up to so many people," She explained with a light smile. "I'd suggest minimizing the number of personnel he has contact with until he's been given enough time to adjust to his new surroundings."

Kitara and Soleta shared a knowing look then, together, they took a step backward. "I'll be on the bridge, making Lieutenant Conrad very, very nervous." The first officer said by way of her own explanation as she turned toward the doors. "Commander, care to come along and intimidate with me?"

"I cannot." Soleta responded regretfully. "There is a small matter of some research which I need to attend to. If you'll excuse me." At Riker's nod of approval, she inclined her head to the others before slipping out ahead of Kitara.

A muffled groan drew the remaining officers away from the others departure and they looked down to see Tucker's eyelashes fluttering. Ren and Troi moved almost as one to his side, each to their duty. The doctor kept a sharp eye on the commander's readings while the counselor leaned over. She rested a gentle hand on the Commander's shoulder as she spoke, "Commander Tucker? Can you hear me?"

Deanna's soft voice elicited a response, for which everyone breathed a sigh of relief, as the commander in question opened his eyes to stare blearily at her. Clearly not the face he was expecting, he frowned slightly in confusion and she smiled reassuringly. "It's all right, Commander, you're safe now."

"Where..." Reaching up slowly, he rubbed at his forehead as if surprised to be alive. Which, given Ren's earlier briefing and her own empathic sense, Deanna knew he was. Astonished really. "This isn't...where am I? What ship is this?"

"You're aboard a Starfleet vessel." Ren interjected, passing the tricorder's diagnostic wand over his head and watching the readings on the tricorder itself. The action didn't go unnoticed by her patient who gave her a confused look. Before Deanna could send a warning look in the doctor's direction, the Trill seemed to catch on as well and lowered it. "You're safe." She repeated, reiterating her shipmate's words.

"You're aboard the _USS Titan_, Commander," Will put in, speaking to him for the first time. "I'm Captain William Riker..." He smiled slightly. "Will."

More fully awake, Tucker didn't resist as the Doctor helped him sit up. "The _Titan_? There's no ships in the 'fleet by that name. Definitely not any that'd be out this far. _Enterprise_'s the only Warp 5 capable ship Earth's got right now."

The officers surrounding him each had a moment wherein they struggled to suppress their amusement at the naivete of the comment. Now was relative and now...the _Enterprise_ that they knew could handle Warp 5 without so much as a hesitation. Warp 5 on a faster, more accurate, warp scale no less.

"Well, Commander," Deanna began, by default the one who would speak on such matters, only to be cut off by their guest.

Trip, as the files had referred to him as, held up a hand and politely began, "Sorry to interrupt but you don't understand. I'm not Commander Tucker....not...like that. I'm..."

"A clone." Ren finished perfunctorily for him. Gaining another bewildered look from her patient, she smiled pertly then explained. "You'd be surprised what a microcellular scan will turn up these days." She patted his arm. "I'm Dr. Ren, by the way, I don't stand for titles though so Ren's fine. And, so, might I add, are you."

"What about the surgery?" Trip frowned, his confusion deepening. "Did Phlox do the surgery? Did it work?" Deanna felt a sudden surge of wild hope and excitement as he began to put things together, trying to understand what had happened. "Is *he* all right?" The other - the first - Commander Tucker. The conflicting emotions thinking of him generated left Deanna trying to hide a frown of her own. So much confusion and beneath the surface....

She sighed and rested her hands on the edge of the biobed. "Commander," she'd decided to address him by such an honorific for the simple fact that in his own thoughts and mind, he still regarded himself as Trip Tucker. The sense she'd gained of him had no confusion on that point. The confusion lay, she felt, within the fact he regarded the other as the same. Nothing was easy in this situation but she was determined to grant him as much security in his belief as she could. In a way, he wasn't wrong. "It is our understanding that the surgery was performed and was successful. By the information we have consulted, the other Commander Tucker recovered and went on to lead a full life."

"And I'm ok?" He worried. "The surgery didn't...Phlox said..." He hesitated, not wanting to actually say the words but, with a sudden surge of determination, managed to anyway, "Phlox said the surgery would kill me."

The three officers shared a look of dismay and here, Deanna turned to the doctor. Ren's word, she felt, would carry more weight than her own and the other woman clearly recognized that as well.

"Commander," The Trill paused, tucking a strand of her hair away from her face, inadvertently drawing his eye to the spots running down her temples, "you did die. The medical science of the day simply wasn't advanced enough to prevent that." Before he could ask the obvious question, she held up a hand to forestall it. "I said the medical science of the day did. Fortunately for you, there was someone aboard with access to far more advanced medical care. You were placed in stasis, unbeknownst to the _Enterprise_ crew, from my understanding, and remained so until today. We recovered the pod you were being held in and I repaired the damage done to both your neural tissue and the inherent flaws which turned up in your DNA."

"My..." Despite clearly struggling with the implications of the doctor's wording, Deanna could feel Trip force his concentration toward something far more important. At least, far more important to him. "DNA? The..."

"Rapid aging?" Ren finished for him, nodding once. "Yes. That required a little resequencing of your genetic structure but..." She smiled slightly. "You'll age at a far more appropriate rate than you previously were."

"Thanks Doc but...no offense...What the hell do you mean by 'medical science of the day'?" Trip looked to Will, expecting the Captain to have the answer to that question.

Will smiled faintly. "Well, Commander, what she means is you are no longer in the 22nd Century." He watched astonishment dawn on the younger man's face as he added, "Welcome to the 24th Century, Commander Tucker."


	3. Future Tense

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well...they say no one ever really dies in Star Trek...they're not wrong.

Understandably, the man they'd now decided amongst themselves to refer to as 'Trip' had some trouble dealing with that. Pronounced fit to get out of Ren's sickbay and promptly booted out by the doctor herself, he was assigned guest quarters.

The moment he stepped into said quarters, the impact of what had really happened to him began to sink in. "These're your _guest_ quarters?" he asked, his voice awed, as he looked about the main living area.

Having reviewed the schematics of the _NX-01_, Deanna was familiar with the sizing of crew quarters and the distinct lack of facilities that even approached the ones the _Titan_ enjoyed. "Yes," she said. Unwilling to make a grand production of it, she kept her voice calm.

Making more of an issue of it would, she suspected given his reaction, only complicate matters further.

"The duties of starships have changed and grown over the years, Commander. Regulations and design have had to change with them."

"You could fit two or three of _Enterprise_'s officers quarters into this." Trip observed before turning to look at her. "Are they all like this?"

She laughed. "The junior officers wish they were. No, I'm afraid members of lower ranks still have to share quarters but we do try to make them as comfortable as possible. Average missions can last far longer than they used to and although Starfleet's managed to expand it's network of bases, most starships have become self-contained cities. It's not uncommon to find families living aboard some starships and with families come the necessary facilities."

"Are there any families on the _Titan_?" he asked, eyes widening at the thought. "What happens if you get into a fight? That's gotta happen at least sometimes...you just fly into it, families and all?"

"It unfortunately does happen on occasion." Deanna allowed, moving into the room and letting the doors slide shut behind her. "In that event, yes, a starship with families aboard still proceeds into battle. Depending on the class of starship, there are contingencies captains can take to protect the people aboard. At this time, no, there aren't any families with children aboard ship. There are a number of married couples however." She smiled slightly. "Such as the captain and myself."

"Thought as much," he said, a ghost of what she suspected to be his usual grin on his face.

"Did you now?" she teased, smiling both as reflex and an attempt to encourage a lightening of the mood. "A little obvious are we?"

"A little." Trip nodded. "Newlyweds?"

Deanna laughed, ducking her head. "Something of that nature, yes..." At his inquisitive look she laughed again. "It's complicated."

"I'll bet it is." He turned to walk a circuit of the room. "So, the ships got bigger...cushier..." A hopeful spark entered his eyes and Deanna suspected she had a very good idea of where his thoughts were going. "Did they by any chance happen to get a bit faster?"

"A bit," she agreed, a grin tugging at her mouth. He was practically dancing with excitement as she continued to answer his question, "the _Titan_ is capable of reaching 9.99 and holding it for quite some time. But you'll find that out soon enough unless I'm mistaken." Taking a seat, she folded her hands on her knee and looked up at him. "So, I'm sure you have more questions."

"All I have are questions," Trip said, dropping down onto the chair opposite her. "Two hundred years...Everyone I know - knew - I wanna know what happened to them, what happened to Earth, to my family, to Jon, Malcolm, Hoshi, Travis, Phlox...T'Pol." He paused, a question coming to mind. She could feel the intense curiosity washing off him, filling the room. The grief of losing those people would come with time, but for now, Deanna let him have the curiosity.

When he could hold it no longer, he asked, "Counselor, if you don't mind my asking, what _are_ you?" At her reaction, he immediately rushed to apologize. "I didn't mean to offend but you're not exactly human and..."

"It's all right, Trip." Deanna assured, laughing openly. "You didn't offend me. I just..." She shook her head. "If you could see yourself from my perspective. I am human. Half. The other half is Betazoid." She gave him a quick summary of her homeworld, leaving out a few pertinent details. Like her mother. Mother was something to be eased into. "We joined the Federation in 2273."

"2273," he repeated in a dull tone as the implications of the casual reference pushed him back into the confusion of earlier. It would be like this for some time, his emotions fluctuating wildly as he tried to comprehend it all. "All of this -- "

"-- has happened before," Deanna finished for him. "It's actually happened a number of times." She hesitated, debating internally just how much to tell him, then plunged ahead. "Several times were aboard the _Enterprise_ when I served aboard her." The jolt that went through him at the mention of her former home was precisely what she'd been expecting from him and he sat up, staring intently at her.

"The _Enterprise_? You served aboard -- They built another one?!"

Deanna nodded. "They've built several." Rising again she went to the desk console, gesturing for him to join her. "There was the _NX-01_ then years later, after the formation of the Federation, came the _Enterprise NCC-1701_ captained by Captains Robert April, Christopher Pike, and James T Kirk. You'll hear a lot about Captain Kirk." She looked up at him with amused eyes. "His name is considered synonymous with _Enterprise_. He captained both the _NCC-1701_ and her successor the _NCC-1701-A_. That ship was also captained by his former first officer, Captain Spock." She paused here and added, "Captain Spock's daughter is actually aboard. I'm sure she'd speak to you about this if you ask." Deanna'd caught a empathic glimpse of Soleta's mind when she'd left sickbay prior to Commander Tucker's awakening and from what she knew of her friend, Trip would be seeing the Vulcan sooner than he expected. "After the _NCC-1701-A_, there was the _Enterprise B_, the _Enterprise C_, and the _Enterprise D_."

"Which you served aboard," he interjected, eliciting a nod from her.

"Yes. I also served for a time aboard the _Enterprise E_ which is still in service and still commanded by Captain Jean Luc Picard." Deanna smiled fondly at the thought of him. "I'm sure he wouldn't mind arranging a tour, the next time we're close enough."

"You said this had happened before, people from past eras showing up here?" Trip sank down onto a chair, watching her with curious eyes. "A lot?"

"Well, it doesn't happen weekly but it has happened. You aren't the first." She turned back to the console, bringing up several files for his perusal. "I've personally witnessed it a number of times. The first was a woman and two men put into cryogenic stasis in the 20th century and launched into orbit. The _Enterprise_ discovered the ship, revived the passengers and I spent some time helping them adjust to a drastically different era. Everything they'd known and accepted as fact had completely changed. Even the very basis of their society as these things go, Trip, you've actually got a very strong basis under your feet. You're at least familiar with the idea of space travel, a united Earth, warp drive --"

"Extraterrestrials. No kidding. Going from that to this -- " Trip sat back, shaking his head. "Wonder they managed to pull it off."

"They did." Deanna affirmed. "I still keep in touch with one of them. She's actually living with the descendants of her children. Quite happy."

"Descendants. Can't imagine that one." Trip looked up as a sudden thought occurred to him. "Did the other did Trip have a family?"

"He did." Deanna nodded. Knowing it was now or never on bringing up that part. "In fact, one of them is our Chief Engineer. Andrew Tucker. I'm sure you'll be meeting him soon enough."

\-----

"So, Deanna told you, huh?" Turning away from one of the consoles, Andrew surveyed the clone with uncertain eyes, his look very similar to the one he was receiving from Trip. "Surprised?"

"Floored." Trip ventured further into Engineering, staring up at the pulsing warp core in awe. "Does this thing really do 9.99?"

"Yep," Drew agreed proudly, glad to be on familiar ground with his -- ancestor. "We can hold it for about forty hours, forty five if I push her a bit." He led the other man closer to the warp core, looking up at it. "Starfleet'd give their eyeteeth to be able to break Warp Ten but --" He shrugged. "Nothing doing yet." Leaning against the railing, he folded his arms across his chest and surveyed Trip. "Captain's gonna wanna talk to you before long. He's giving you a chance to settle in, figure out everything, get used to the idea but -- "

"He'll wanna know how the hell I got here?" he supplied with a lift of his brow. "Wish I knew."

"Eh, we know that." Drew waved a hand. "Got that from the tube we found you in. There's just a few blanks we need filled in and we're hoping you'll be the one to be able to do that."

"What blanks are those?" Trip frowned. "I went through the surgery, I died. Captain Archer and the others put me in the tube, shot me off into space, a few hundred years later, you all happen by it."

"Uh uh." Drew shook his head. "That torpedo tube was outfitted with 24th Century Starfleet technology, turned into a stasis pod of sorts. Someone from this time period was aboard the _NX-01_, modified that pod months in advance, waited for whatever happened to happen then administered medical aid to you between the time you were pronounced in Sickbay and before you were put into the pod."

"You know who it is," Trip said suspiciously, straightening up.

"Yes. But that's not for me to discuss. Captain'll string me up for talkin' about this much but," he shrugged, "we're family right? Gotta stick together."

"Are we?" Trip frowned. "I might look like him, remember the things he did, felt but..."

"If the Commander has declared you to be family," a cool voice said, "then perhaps, Commander Tucker, you should simply accept it at that. It would be the determination of the Tucker family whether or not to accept you as kin. If Drew has done so, " they turned to see the lift descending from the upper level of Engineering carrying the still-speaking Soleta, "you would do well not to reject that acceptance."

Drew grinned at his friend then looked at Trip. "The Vulcan hath spoken. Best not try and argue with her, Trip. Soleta's as tenacious as a Klingon Targ when she thinks she's right. Which is pretty much all the time."

Soleta arched a brow at him. "On the contrary, Commander, I would never display such unseemly arrogance."

"Put that eyebrow down," Drew countered. "You might hurt somebody with it."

The brow arched further as she advanced on them. "I apologize for Drew's sense of humor, Commander. In the time I have been aboard, I have attempted to adjust it some, however, I must admit defeat. It is warped beyond repair." Joining them, she tilted her head slightly to meet his gaze. "I apologize for the interruption." She held out a PADD to Andrew. "Further data on the stasis pod."

"Oh thanks, been waiting on this." He thumbed through it. "Man, the work --"

Soleta cleared her throat meaningfully, drawing his attention to the staff milling about them, some curiously watching the trio. "I would suggest, Drew, relocating to your office before reviewing the data. It is cleared for senior staff only until Starfleet determines what to do with it."

"Have we even heard back from Command yet?" Her fellow officer asked as the trio made their way through the bustling Engineering department, Trip craning his neck to take in everything as they went.

"No." She shook her head. "We expect it will be several more hours yet."

Safe within the confining walls of Drew's office, he was comfortable asking, "Think they'll bother to tell us where she is?"

"Unknown," Soleta responded crisply, settling into a chair. "It would depend on the nature of her present assignment."

"Uh, who exactly is _she_?" asked Trip, taking the chair next to her at Drew's nod. "The person who did the work on the torpedo tube?"

"The person who will do the work on the torpedo tube." Soleta corrected. "From her perspective, it is quite likely that she has yet to perform such duties." At his confused look, she looked faintly amused. Well, for a Vulcan. "Temporal paradoxes are nothing if not a challenge to one's tenses."

"More like they give you a serious headache," Drew said, grinning. "Trust me, Trip, I've been going around on this one and the only thing it got me was a visit to Sickbay for an analgesic." He saw the frown on the other man's face and leaned in. "Somethin' wrong?"

"You all keep calling me Trip," Trip sighed with some trepidation. "On the _NX-01_, they all called me Sim. That's what Phlox called me and he was pretty much like a father to me."

"Which would you prefer?" Soleta inquired solicitously, watching him with an alert gaze. "It is your choice."

"I kinda like bein' called Trip. I mean, I still remember everything he did. Hell, I think I felt everything he did." He blushed slightly, a fact that did not go unnoticed by either of the officers watching him. "But I have no idea whatsoever."

"We don't know either." Drew put in with a thoughtful expression. "You're a Tucker as far as that goes, trust me, I know my family, they're gonna be pleased as punch about this but what you wanna be called by for a given name is a whole other ballgame. One you're gonna have to figure out for yourself."

"Perhaps discussing it with the Captain would also be a venue for you to explore." Soleta suggested. "He has had to go through this situation himself with a transporter incident and thus, might have an opinion on the matter."

"Transporter incident?" Trip repeated curiously, imagining Malcolm's reaction to *that* phrase. The guy'd never really gotten used to the idea of the transporter. At least, not up until the point he could remember. "What kind of transporter incident exactly?"

"It occurred many years ago at Nervala IV," Soleta began cautiously. "The captain was then a lieutenant and serving aboard the _USS Potemkin_. He was attempting to beam up but a distortion field prevented this. Two transporter beams were used in conjunction to retrieve his pattern. Unbeknownst to the ship or the Captain himself, while he was beamed aboard, during transport, his pattern had been duplicated. One was transported aboard the other left behind. Eight years later, the _Enterprise_ returned to Nervala IV where the clone was discovered and rescued. If I recall correctly --"

"And she does." Drew interjected. "Damned annoying habit of hers."

Soleta directed a tolerant look his way while continuing,"-- the lieutenant took the name Thomas. Thomas is the Captain's middle name." She paused then surveyed Trip. "You were created after the original Commander Charles Tucker the Third thus, logically, you cannot be considered the third man to bear the name. However, you are Charles Tucker. If you wish to use the nickname of Trip, if you are comfortable with it, and the family has no objection it would be illogical to concern yourself with the issue. I can assure you, Trip, there will be far more pressing concerns in a very swift period of time that will require your attention."

"See?" Before Trip could speak, his relative was speaking, "I warned you, Trip. *Never* try to argue with her when she thinks she's right. She'll logic you right out of your boots and you end up on the floor, head spinning, wondering what the hell just happened." Drew laughed and spun in his chair, looking at the replicator. "Coffee. Hot." He glanced back. "Want some?"

"Yeah sure." Trip nodded, eyeing the replicator with interest. "Not the same technology we used on the _NX-01_ is it?"

"It is not." Soleta answered then put in. "A mug of Saya would be agreeable, Drew."

"One mug of Saya coming up." The engineer announced cheerfully, putting his own coffee aside and ordering up the drinks. "The basic circuitry and everything's changed. About the only things you'd recognize these days are basic ship and engine design. We've been tinkering and improving those but they've largely remained the same when it comes to basic structure. From what I hear, you should have no trouble catching up though." He grinned. "That whole fast growing thing might've stopped but the Doc thinks you'll absorb information at the same rate. Which you're gonna need. Two hundred years of politics, science and general mischief to catch up on. We've had a few wars, some major peace treaties...but you won't be getting any of that from me. I'd put you into a coma and the Doc'd have my guts for garters."

"Commander Troi and I will be undertaking those particular duties," Soleta said, answering the question before he could. "However, we will be leaving the Engineering to Commander Tucker. He would be most disappointed if we were to take that particular honor from him."

"Meaning he'd never stop complaining about it?"

"Precisely." Soleta agreed.

"Better let him do it then." Trip commented, inhaling the scent of the coffee appreciatively. "Y'know, it's been two hundred years since I had a cup of good coffee?"

"I would suggest you not ingest that then," she returned without hesitation, "replicated coffee is not --" she stopped briefly as Trip swallowed and made a face, "-- quite as good as the genuine article. Some foods the replicator has no difficulties with. However, there are some which do require one's taste buds to make adjustments and allowances."

"Otherwise I'll go hungry?"

"Or you will spend a great deal of time in the crew mess. Many people do, indeed, enjoy replicated food. Some rarely eat anything but." Soleta lifted her mug to her lips, swallowing a mouthful of the Vulcan drink. "It is a common occurrence. Many people do not find much use in old-style food preparation. Particularly on Earth. Terrans seem to embrace the technological changes with a vigor which vastly surpasses other species."

"She's not wrong there." Drew grinned. "No matter how many races have joined the Federation, humans still seem to surpass most other races when it comes to joining Starfleet. Might be a varied group of races now but --"

"They have not given up their claim to it." Soleta assured.

"Y'know, that's the thing that absolutely blows me away." Trip grinned. "Jon actually pulled it off. That Federation he was talking about, he pulled it off." He was still chuckling over it when he realized that both Soleta and Drew were staring at him in undisguised shock. "What? Why're you looking at me like that?"

"Trip," the Vulcan woman began slowly, carefully, "are you saying that Captain Archer knew about the Federation? Knew that it would exist?"

Beginning to understand something wasn't quite right, Trip nodded once, keeping his eyes on them. "Yeah, he got visits from this supposed time traveler by the name of Daniels. Daniels told 'em about some kinda temporal cold war that was goin' on. People trying to change the past. Keep the Federation from existing."

His words hit them both with all the impact of a quantum torpedo. Thunderstruck, Drew and Soleta stared at each other wordlessly, both trying to comprehend the magnitude of what he'd just revealed to them. The Starfleet captain involved in the very formation of the United Federation Of Planets had known ahead of time what lay ahead, worse yet, someone in the future was the one feeding him the information in an attempt to stop some sort of conflict.

"You guys didn't know about this?" Trip ventured, looking from one to the other.

"We did not," Soleta managed after a momentary delay, still thunderstruck.

"This is the first we've heard of it." Drew agreed. "Trust me, Starfleet knew about a temporal cold war? We'd've been briefed." He paused then added, "Well, some of us would've been and the way it works around here? We'd all know. At least, the senior staff would. Captain doesn't believe in keeping secrets from us unless he's been ordered to by Starfleet --"

"And in those cases," his fellow officer put in with an expression that could have been fondness, "the Captain is somewhat transparent in his dislike of those orders. For someone who delights in playing poker, his bluffing skills pick timely moments to desert him. If that is, one has discovered how to read his 'tells'."

Trip snickered just a little, picking up on the undertone of the conversation. The camaraderie. He remembered being able to talk about, and to, Jon like that. Or, the other Trip had, it was all so jumbled up in his head and he didn't quite know what he was supposed to do with it. Or with what happened with T'Pol. Or didn't happen. Or did it even matter? They'd all been dead for at least a hundred years.

The realization hit him hard, like a sucker punch to the gut, and he stared off into space as he was caught in the midst of it all. Dead. They were all dead. All of them. He was the only one left. They'd become a part of history, caricatures...nothing more. Figures at a crucial moment in the quadrant's history and that was that. They were all gone.

The people sitting with him didn't miss the look of sudden grief that passed over his face and neither one was particularly surprised to see it. They shared a look and Soleta passed her mug back to Drew. "Perhaps, Commander," she commented quietly to her friend, "you should inform the captain of this particular development while Commander Tucker and I look at the research I've been doing."

"I think," Drew agreed as Trip looked up at them in surprise, "it would be a very good idea. He'll wanna talk to you but I'll tell him you need some time."

"Indeed." Soleta rose from her chair and looked down at the man who'd been sitting beside her. "Please come with me, Commander."

"Where're we going?" he asked, standing with her as Drew ducked out around them.

"To find out what happened to your friends."


	4. Future Tense

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well...they say no one ever really dies in Star Trek...they're not wrong.

The heat of Soleta's quarters hit him like a blast furnace and his reaction was observed by the sharp eyed Vulcan who acknowledged it with barely a flicker of expression. She did, however, take pity on him and said, "Computer, lower ambient temperature by thirty two degrees."

Tugging at his collar, Trip grinned sheepishly at her. "Is it _always_ this hot in here?"

"No," Soleta admitted with a look that might have been her version of sheepish. "It is the summer season in the province wherein my home is located. I do attempt to keep my quarters regulated with home. It is comfortable to me." She crossed the spacious main room which he was observing with interest. He'd only been in the personal quarters of one Vulcan prior to her and T'Pol had never had this much on display. The basic structure of Soleta's quarters was nearly identical to the ones he'd been assigned but that was where the similarity ended. There were artifacts artfully arranged on the walls, tapestries, statues on the shelves intermingled with a plethora of books. It was sparse and yet rich at the same time. The effect was a balance and one, he had a feeling, she worked hard to maintain. "Ordinarily, I do lower the temperature prior to the arrival of guests. My level of comfort and that of my shipmates drastically differ. There are few crew mates who would enter and not notice the heat."

"It's kinda hard not to." Trip admitted, wandering toward a tapestry, examining the pattern with interest. He couldn't make hide nor hair of the words or images woven into it but he figured Hoshi'd go nuts over it. She'd probably go nuts over everything in Soleta's quarters. He was sure T'Pol definitely didn't have anything like it in hers, but what interested him the most, more than the items on display, was that Soleta thought nothing about displaying any of it and was paying no attention to his interest, going about her business instead. She was accustomed to people seeing her personal possessions. "This is amazing."

"It is a replica," answered Soleta from where she stood at one of the few purely functional pieces of furniture in the room. Her desk console. "The original is in my family home on Vulcan. I would not dare to bring the real piece offworld. It is over a thousand years old."

"Wow." He blinked. "And here I thought Mom still having great-great-great grandma Tucker's broach was somethin'." Joining her at the desk, much as he had with Deanna earlier, his eye caught sight of a gilded, old-style picture frame. Curious, he reached out to pick it up then turned it to face him. When he did, he found himself looking at two images. The first of a middle-aged Vulcan couple in ornate robes. Taking a guess, he figured on it being Soleta's parents at their wedding. A fact she affirmed the moment she realized what he was looking at.

"My parents." Reaching out, she tapped one slender finger above each face as she named them, "My mother Saavik and my father Spock. The image was taken for them by an old friend of my father's." At this, she seemed amused. "He was told there would be no photography at the ceremony however, he rarely does what he is told."

"I'll bet." Trip laughed then stopped as the name clicked into place and he forgot both the joke and the picture frame in his hands. "You're Captain Spock's daughter?!" In retrospect, that should've been obvious. He'd passed a lot of Vulcans in the crew but somehow it kinda fit. All things considered. "Counselor Troi mentioned you might be willing to tell me a few stories about the _Enterprise_?"

Her facial expression did not change but he got the distinct impression that Soleta was quite pleased by the question. "I would be honored to do so." She paused, contemplating something which put a faintly mischievous look on her face "In fact, there are other arrangements which can be made as well." To his utter aggravation, she left it there.

"Oh come on now, Soleta, you _can't_ leave it at that!" He protested as she sat at the console, elegant fingers playing across the touchpad of the desktop unit. "What 'arrangements'?"

"That, as my grandmother would say, is for me to know and you to find out," she answered placidly, not looking up from the screen.

The mention of her grandmother reminded him of the frame in his hands and Trip dropped his gaze to look at the second panel, "Are these your --" At the sight of the very human features of the elderly woman in the picture, words failed him and all Trip could do was stare. Soleta's grandmother was human.

Seeming to understand his silence, she sat back from the console, folding her hands in her lap and quietly saying, "Her name was Amanda."

"She's beautiful," he said finally, still staring at the faces, "you kinda look like her, actually." It was easy to see the resemblance, Soleta had inherited her grandmother's fine features and tiny frame. In the photograph Amanda appeared to be in her eighties and Soleta's careful wording made him realize. "I'm sorry, how long?"

"I never knew her," she said and there was no mistaking the sadness underlying her words. "Human lifespans, even in this day and age, still fall woefully short of Vulcans. My father and mother had one child, my elder brother, many years ago. She knew him. But many years went by before they decided to have another child. By the time of my birth, Amanda had long since passed away." Soleta reached out, taking the picture from him. "I have no personal memories of her. I have shared those of my father and my brother in melds but it is regretful I have none of my own. She was a remarkable woman. Vulcan still honors her memory."

That got his attention and Trip pulled up one of the smaller stools that decorated the sitting area. "She was well known?" He had the sense he was getting a rare peek into the world the Vulcans normally kept tightly locked away and hidden from the rest of the galaxy.

"The entire family is," Soleta explained. "Ours is an old and influential House. Because of this, Sarek taking Amanda as wife in the time and manner he did was an event which generated much reaction on both Earth and Vulcan, the majority of it shock. A Vulcan and a human choosing to bond was not something anyone had expected at that time. Politically and idealistically we were strong allies...but no one expected anything to develop beyond that." She looked somewhat amused as she added. "I am told by my human crewmates there are few people within the Federation who have not heard the story of their romance. I am pleased by this, theirs is a story to be remembered."

"You'll have to tell me the whole thing sometime," he agreed quietly, an oddly wistful note in his voice. "They were the first, huh?" If Soleta's grandparents had been the first then that meant T'Pol and the other Trip had never quite managed to work it out. That, surprisingly, hurt.

"Indeed," she agreed with a slow nod, watching him with those inquisitive eyes of hers. "In truth, I do not believe that such a union would not have been successful prior to that. There has been some debate, though quiet, on Vulcan as to whether or not the marriage would have been successful even then had it not been for the political power of the family."

"Yeah, you said they were a little influential." He watched her set the picture on her desk, arranging it in the position it had been previously.

"They are." Soleta turned her attention back to the desk console, conveniently avoiding further elaboration. "Starfleet records contain the information as to what happened to the human members of the _NX-01_'s crew after their service aboard the ship. Since she returned to Vulcan after her service, I have made inquiries through my family as to T'Pol. That may take longer as there are traditions to consider but I assure you, I expect answers soon." She brought up Jonathan Archer's service record first. "I thought, perhaps, you would find this one particularly interesting. Given the events of the last few years of the _Enterprise_'s mission, Captain Archer logically chose to enter politics upon his retirement from Starfleet."

"Jon retired?!" Trip stared at her in disbelief then followed the movement of her hand toward the screen where she lightly tapped a date on the record, indicating Archer's retirement. "He went into politics?"

"Indeed, at the urging of both the Andorian and Vulcan governments, he accepted a nomination for the presidency of the United Federation of Planets. President Archer's leadership is credited with the swift consolidation of the Federation during the years after the Earth-Romulan war." She sat back, giving him a chance to read the information himself. "He had a family. In fact, the current president is a descendant of his. Serena Archer was elected to her position largely because of her connection to her ancestor. There is a movement within the Federation who believe it has grown soft called the Essentialists, they strongly backed her. It is regarded as one of the few beneficial things they have done."

Shaking his head in bemusement, he sat back and stared. "Can't quite wrap my brain around it. Jon a politician."

"The Federation is not typical of most politics Earth has seen before. Though, logically, Earth is its seat of government."

"Logically, huh?" he managed a wry grin at her usage of the word. Vulcans did seem to love it.

"Quite," said Soleta, apparently oblivious to his amusement. "Starfleet was already headquartered out of Earth, making Sol one of the most heavily guarded systems in the sector. There was no logical reason to locate the headquarters of the Federation to any other world. Particularly when one considered the role Earth played in the Federation's formation." Soleta paused and rose from her chair, returning moments later with a book which she handed to him. "It is not a common occurrence to publish books in the form they once took, holonovels are more widely enjoyed now, but there are still some traditionalists who prefer the feel of pages beneath one's hands. This is a documentation of the formation of the Federation and the years that followed. It is a highly accurate account of those years of Jonathan's life and how his time aboard _Enterprise_ conditioned him to be the man that he became. Perhaps you would like to borrow it?"

"I would. Very much." Taking it in hand, Trip ran his fingertips over the leather binding, considering. "Thanks." He looked up. "What about the others?"

"Well, your counterpart also married and had a family but --" She leaned forward, bringing up Trip's service record. "He also chose not to return to space after the _Enterprise_. Captain Tucker became the head of the Constitution project."

"Which was?"

"He was instrumental in the design of the Constitution class of Starfleet vessel. It was among the widest used class of ship during the 23rd century and the basis for the modern day design of ship as well. It incorporated the best features of the NX design and Henry Archer's engine." Soleta called up the associated files and had them sent to the console in Trip's quarters for his later perusal. "I will leave these files available to your access from the console in your quarters should you wish to review them at a more leisurely pace. There is much to cover. I am in the process of compiling a reading list of important dates in the previous two centuries that you would need to familiarize yourself with first. Counselor Troi and I will go over them with you if you wish." She risked resting a hand briefly on his arm. "There is much to learn but we do not anticipate you encountering any difficulty with comprehending the material."

"Thanks for the vote of confidence." Trip said with a faint smile. "I'm feeling like I landed in the ultimate way in over my head situation. I'm two hundred years out of date here, it's almost impossible to imagine. Except, from what you all tell me, it's not so impossible to imagine. A regular occurrence really."

"Hardly regular," she responded dryly. "However, yes, it has happened. But such is the _Enterprise_ Curse."

"The what?"

"It is a legend I believe some humans have espoused. There is some basis in fact, however, as all ships named _Enterprise_ that have flown under the banner of Starfleet have managed to find themselves in situations which add new definition to words like fantastical and impossible. The phenomena is so frequent that overtime it took on the name of The _Enterprise_ Curse. I have had opportunity to experience it myself." She sat back.

"We discovered a ship trapped within a Dyson Sphere whilst I was still serving aboard the _Enterprise D_ and in that ship, the _Jenolen_, we discovered two patterns in transporter stasis. Someone had rigged up a continuous loop to keep the patterns active for nearly 80 years. When we attempted to re solidify the patterns only one was viable. That pattern turned out to be a missing - presumed dead - friend of my father. They had served together aboard the _Enterprise_ for nearly thirty years. He rematerialized believing only a short amount of time might have passed. Whatever time it would have taken his friends to mount a rescue mission. Except they hadn't. The majority of them had long since succumbed to age." She lifted one brow as she added, "You might imagine his reaction when the Captain introduced him to me and informed him of who I was."

"Must've took him clear off his feet when he found out." Trip commented, finding the whole discussion absolutely surreal. He was sitting aboard a starship, two hundred years in the future, having a conversation with a Vulcan woman who happened to be part human about a man who'd gone through the same thing he had albeit via a different method of stasis. "Did he adjust?"

"He did." She affirmed. "It took some time and was not without its struggles but he did indeed adjust. We are in regular contact now. I believe he has come to view me as the daughter he never quite got around to having." The way she stated the fact, with a quiet but undeniable pride, told him Soleta had absolutely no problem being this particular gentleman's surrogate daughter. "We are quite fond of each other."

"Think someday I might be able to meet the guy?" He ventured thoughtfully. "Sounds like we have a lot in common. The whole fish out of water aspect of our little trips through time and all."

Again that mysterious look surfaced on Soleta's face. The expression she'd worn earlier. "Indeed, I do not believe this would be a difficulty." She allowed with a nod. "Which crewmate would you wish to --"

_"Riker to Commander Soleta."_

Soleta gave him a look that might've been aggravation before lightly tapping her communicator. "Yes, Captain?"

_"Is Commander Tucker with you?"_

She pressed her lips together and if Trip hadn't known better, he would've thought she was attempting to hide a wry smile. Or, maybe he was just projecting. "Yes sir, he is. I gather you wish to speak with him?" As if she hadn't been expecting exactly that. Trip's earlier revelation about Archer's foreknowledge of the Federation had all but guaranteed the meeting between the two.

_"I'd like to speak to you both in my Ready Room just as soon as you can get here."_

"Agreed. On our way, Captain. Soleta out." Rising, she looked apologetic. "We will have to conclude this later, Commander. "

"I look forward to it," he agreed with a grin. "Commander."

\-----

"Archer knew about the Federation?" Deanna stared at her husband in shock. "Will --"

"Zefram didn't tell them." He responded to her unanswered question. "At least, nothing that would give anything concrete away. He did, it seems, try to warn people about the Borg - Starfleet isn't too happy with that but they've managed to suppress the information." And with good reason. Starfleet at least had ample occasion to understand the nature of time travel and the resulting ripple effects if anything were to be altered. They had enough scientists and officers warning them about the dangers of such risky business but the average civilian in the Federation lacked the access to such data. All they would glean from the information about Zefram's warnings and the _Enterprise_'s inadvertent trip into the past was that Starfleet had been given an opportunity to warn themselves of the Borg threat. To, in essence, prevent Wolf 359 and had let it slip through their grasp. Will doubted grieving families would much care about the philosophical debate surrounding the Temporal Prime Directive. In theory, it was easily accepted...but when faced with the chance of regaining a family member lost to the Collective...

He didn't think logic or theory would stand much of a chance. At least, not until things had already been changed, when no one would realize the change had ever happened and it was already too late. Given what he was looking at, he couldn't eliminate the possibility that change had already occurred and they were living in an alternate timeline.

"If we are," his wife commented picking up on the thought, "I can't say this part of it isn't enjoyable."

Will grinned at her. "You say that now. Just wait until I forget our anniversary."

"You won't," she said, oh so serenely. He didn't dare ask just what made her so sure. The answer was anyone's guess and one never trifled with a Betazoid woman to find out. Especially not when said woman happened to be Deanna Troi. "Don't worry about that."

"No," he gave her an amused look. "Now I have something else entirely to worry about."

"Which will keep you from forgetting." Deanna looked smug. "Effective technique isn't it?"

"Highly." He answered dryly. The door chimed and he looked up. "Come."

With his approval, the door slid open to admit Soleta, Trip following closely behind her, who walked forward to stop before his desk. "You wished to see us, Sir?"

"I did." Will got up and went to the door, preventing it from sliding shut as he leaned out. "Kitara, in here for a minute." Returning to his seat, he waited for his First Officer to step into the room before turning his attention to the matter at hand. "Drew and I had a rather interesting conversation earlier." He fixed a speculative look on Commander Tucker as he added, "You said Jonathan Archer knew about the Federation? That some self-professed time traveler by the name of Daniels told him?"

"Yessir." Trip nodded. "Never had much contact with Daniels myself. Well, Commander Tucker never had much contact with him but enough that he seemed to be on the up and up. Some damn weird things kept cropping up in the earlier years of the mission. Stuff from the future --" he shook his head. "Should all be in the logs unless Starfleet's classified them."

"They have." Will affirmed. "I'm waiting on the transmissions from Headquarters. In the meantime, whatever you can tell me would be a help. Exactly what did Archer know?"

"Not a hell of a lot, really. Daniels kept it pretty vague but the impression Jon got was the Federation formed as some kind of alliance to stop a race called the Xindi. Whatever the whole temporal cold war thing was, the Xindi seemed to be on the other side. They were the ones behind the attack on Earth. Killed seven million, including my -- " Trip's voice faltered and he stopped, regaining his composure. "Including my sister." No one corrected him on that one. Neither Will or Soleta would have ever thought of it and Deanna could sense the depth of Tucker's feelings without even attempting to. Whatever his genetic status, he felt as connected to the Tucker family as the original Trip had. None of them would ever fault him for that.

"He believes _that_ was the reason for the formation of the Federation?" she said instead, disbelief coloring her response.

Trip nodded, looking at her. "Why, that's wrong?"

"It is indeed a misconception," Soleta agreed quietly. "Though conflict with the Romulan Empire certainly did much to gel the fledgling alliance that Earth created there was no mention of a race known as the Xindi involved at that time. However, if memory serves me, there is a race by that name which does now hold membership status."

Her calm statement had Trip's gaze snapping back to her impassive features. "They're *members* of the Federation?! They murdered seven million people!"

"This is indeed so," she responded calmly, "then those actions were likely taken by a small few. The government of the day. It is illogical to hold an entire race accountable for the actions of a few. Particularly if those few were misled by others who have been since dealt with."

"They haven't been!" he argued. "_Enterprise_ was still in the middle of chasing these guys down when I ended up here --"

"--and here is two centuries later." Will put in, firmly, ending the argument before it had a chance to grow. "Whatever happened, Commander, happened over two hundred years ago. The people involved have been dead for years as have their children and their children's children. They can't be held accountable for their ancestor's sins anymore than ours can." His gaze went to Kitara and the duo shared a look. "The Federation has learned better than anyone how to make a friend of an enemy. Our current alliance with the Klingons has more than proven that out."

"The Klingons --" Trip's brow furrowed. "We're not at war with them."

"We were." Deanna corrected. "There was never a conflict on an intergalactic scale but hostilities between the Federation and the Klingon Empire existed for a century. Generations grew up with the constant threat of absolute war with the Klingons hanging over their heads but they are our allies now. As evidenced by Kitara's presence in Starfleet." She chuckled. "Not to mention her very existence."

When their guest's confusion only deepened, Kitara stepped forward to explain, "My mother is human, Commander. My existence is living proof of the bonds which have grown between Earth and Qo'noS. I assure you, a hundred years ago if you had told a human or a Klingon that there would be offspring of their two races which did not occur because of brutality they would not have believed you."

"I'm still havin' a hard time buying us being that hostile --" Trip frowned. "What happened?"

"We will cover that later." Soleta assured. "It is a very long and complex story." She looked faintly amused. "The _Enterprise_ features prominently in the resolution as well." Turning back to the captain she put forward, "It is possible that this is the reason for which Commander Reed is in the 22nd century. If Archer knows about the Federation but is operating under such flawed data he could inadvertently do much to damage it's very development."

"She's right." Kitara agreed. "Jonathan Archer played a big role in the Federation's creation. If he thinks that we founded it in order to fight a war --"

"I'm inclined to agree." Will said with a nod and a look in his wife's direction. They both did. The potential what ifs of such a scenario were dangerous. The birth of the Federation was a string of very lucky coincidences. Even something as trivial as a misconception about the organization's intent could have derailed it before it was ever born. The very thought of that was enough to send a chill down his spine. "Hopefully Starfleet will be able to tell us more...including where Sara is. If she hasn't left yet, I'd like to know what she knows."

Trip dropped down into a chair in front of Will's desk and put his head in his hands. "This is surreal." He complained, looking up into the sympathetic face of the Captain. "Everything's completely over my head. How the hell am I ever going to catch up?"

"You're going to." Will assured. "I assure you, Commander, from my own experiences?" He smiled. "These people won't stop," he nodded at Soleta, Kitara, Deanna...the whole crew really, "until you do."

"Indeed," Soleta agreed. "I have been told that we are most notoriously bullheaded. At the time, I must admit, it was not intended as a compliment however..."

_"Lieutenant Zarell to Captain Riker..."_

"Y'know," Trip couldn't help grinning, "that can get pretty annoying."

Will snorted. "You've no idea. Trust me. Sometimes, I think they do it deliberately." As Deanna tried valiantly to contain her laughter, he turned his attention to his Tactical officer's hail. "Yes, Lieutenant?"

_"Sir,"_ Kasha, a Betazoid, sounded as if she were torn between bemusement and concern. Will was tempted to accuse her of eavesdropping but a wave of smugness from his wife told him what'd really happened. _"There is a Valiant-class starship decloaking off the port bow. Sir...it is the_ Valiant_ herself."_

The revelation of the ship's name had the modern day officers in the room frowning in concern.

"I thought the _Valiant_ was destroyed during the Dominion War." Deanna commented as she and her husband came to their feet in one swift movement.

"It was." Soleta affirmed, adding the date and location of the ship's destruction.

"Looks like Starfleet wasn't content to let sleeping vessels lie." Kitara said dryly as Will walked past her, exiting the Ready Room and emerging onto the bridge with his little band in tow. "Can't really blame them though, the fact they haven't made this public knowledge, curiouser and curiouser as my grandmother would say."

"Mine would say Starfleet's hedging their bets. The _Valiant_'s their proverbial ace in the hole. As long as it's reconstruction is kept secret, they have an added advantage." He answered as everyone moved to take their stations, Trip following Soleta out of curiosity to the back of the bridge where the Science and Engineering consoles were located. As he passed a tall brunette at one station, she smiled a warm greeting but did not spare time for conversation as her gaze went back to the readouts scrolling across her screen. Didn't take much speculation to identify her as the previously speaking Lieutenant Zarell. She had the Armory Officer stance down. Malcolm would've loved her. "Report, Lieutenant."

The lieutenant looked up again. "They're hailing now, sir."

"On screen." Will took the center seat as the screen lit up to reveal a redhead with a friendly smile. "Well, well, well...look who finally turned up. How've you been, Sara?"

"Busy." The Starfleet Intelligence agent responded crisply despite her smile. "And well on my way to a well deserved respite on Caspiria Prime until Starfleet suddenly directed me here." Rising from the captain's chair, he stepped closer to the screen. "What's going on, Captain?"

"You're not going to believe it." He responded. "I'm sure of that much. This one, trust me, it's out there."

"I suspected as much, with you Captain, things are rarely simple or ordinary." Reed said simply, subtly amused. "I trust I'll get the full story just as soon as I beam aboard, hmm?"

"No," he disagreed then, unable to resist teasing her, said, "but we'll tell you what we know. I promise it's worth the trip."

"I'll hold you to that," she cautioned mirthfully, before the screen returned to the starfield.


	5. Future Tense

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well...they say no one ever really dies in Star Trek...they're not wrong.

Having listened to everything Riker's senior staff had to say, Sara's response was understandable. Placing her hands flat on the table, palms down, she nodded once then said bluntly, "You're out of your bloody mind."

The simple, unequivocal response to the story that they had been able to piece together was, Will suspected, Sara's only attempt at remaining polite. The disbelief at the whole situation was as plain as the rather patrician nose which decorated her face. She let the PADD she'd been holding fall to the briefing room table with a clatter as she swivelled in the chair to regard him with an irritated look in her eyes.

"Captain Riker," she began with a more conciliatory tone, "with all due respect, you cannot possibly be serious. You actually believe at some point in the near future Starfleet is going to order me into the *past* on some sort of insane reconnaissance mission?"

"Oh I'm quite serious, Commander." He responded evenly, understanding her skepticism. "We'll take you to sickbay to examine the torpedo tube later but I'm absolutely convinced of this. It was you and you're responsible for saving this man's life." He inclined his head in Trip's direction. "We believe you did so and arranged for his rescue by us because of the information he carried. Information which indicates there is someone moving about somewhat freely in the 22nd Century dispensing nuggets of information about the future - including the Federation - to Starfleet personnel and alien races alike. You can imagine Starfleet Command's reaction to that."

"I don't have to imagine it." Sara said with a slight upturn of her lips. "The speed with which I was yanked off my previous assignment and redirected here tells me precisely what kind of reaction this information must've gotten in San Francisco." She shook her head and reached for the PADD again. "Bloody insane."

"Well I never said it wasn't." Will commented. "But it also doesn't come as much of a surprise. At least, not the fact you're mixed up in this."

"Or the fact that you are?"

"Or the fact that I am." He nodded turning to look as Soleta entered the briefing room, another PADD in hand, and joined the senior staff at the table. "What've you got for us, Commander?"

The Vulcan took her time, got settled in, then turned her attention to her captain. "It occurred to me that there seemed to be far more programming within the tube than would be required to perform the functions it did. In returning to it, I took another, more detailed, look and made a most interesting discovery." Setting the PADD on the table, she pressed several commands into the small console built into the glossy surface and the screen behind the captain lit up. "It is a data file. Video." She looked at the newcomer as she added, "It would seem, Commander Reed, that you took extra precautions to convince yourself of the veracity of this report."

On the screen a slim, blonde woman appeared. She looked nothing like the commander but the very first thing she did was introduce herself as Sara Reed, calmly rattling off two series of numbers and letters. The first one everyone recognized as a Starfleet serial number but the second one was the one that Sara reacted to.

"That's..." She stopped herself from speaking further before, they assumed, she gave away any sensitive information. After a moment's regrouping, she looked to Riker and said, "All right, I'm convinced. There's not a doubt in my mind that woman is me."

"By the looks of it, you've had some serious reconstructive surgery." He responded, getting up to take a better look. "I wouldn't even know it's you and I've known you for years."

"You aren't supposed to be." Sara explained as her altered self on screen began to speak again, detailing the objectives of her mission. "By the sound of it, no one aboard the _NX-01_ has a clue I'll actually be there, it's the proverbial bait and switch. I'm going under as an established member of the Military Assault Command. They won't know to suspect me."

"Well now that's something I haven't heard of in a while." Ren sat forward, looking up at the screen, her eyes on the uniform. "I remember hearing about those in the early days of Starfleet. A lot of the MACOs were offered field commissions, I believe, when their command was dissolved after the formation of the Federation. There were a few of them already serving on the _Enterprise_ at that time I believe. By Archer's request, they were absorbed into the crew."

"So, first task, find out as much as we can about this Corporal MacKenzie you'll be - are - pretending to be." Kitara observed, turning her focus to Sara. "It seems this is the beginning of some sort of temporal loop."

"Indeed. The discovery of Commander Tucker in the torpedo tube was meant to be the catalyst which would lead to Commander Reed being assigned by Starfleet Intelligence to travel backwards in time, assume Corporal MacKenzie's identity and transfer aboard the _Enterprise_ in an attempt to discover - and perhaps affect change to - what Captain Archer knows about the Federation. Perhaps, even assist him in this attempt to apprehend the aliens behind the Xindi's attack on Earth." Soleta put in, revealing the theory she had been working on for some time. "It does indeed seem as if preventing the formation of the Federation is the end result to which these aliens aspire."

"Well, it wouldn't be the first time." Deanna put in. "We all know the Borg tried it when they couldn't invade and assimilate the Federation by their conventional means." Her comment brought nods and grimaces from the rest of the _Titan_'s senior staff. Those not personally experienced with that little near disaster had been let in on the know some time before. The whole thing was highly classified but, like most secrets, hadn't quite stayed that way among some circles on the 'Fleet.

"Okay, now that I missed." Trip interrupted, looking to them all with interest. "The who did tried to do what?"

"I'll tell you later." The Counselor advised with a grin that hinted there was one hell of a story behind her earlier statement. Trip was beginning to think there was one hell of a story behind just about everything they said. They didn't seem to do anything the easy way. He sent a questioning look across the table to where Soleta sat but all she did was lift an eyebrow. Which was, Trip decided, not any answer that suited him. He'd been getting half answers and aborted explanations since the whole thing had started to snowball. He'd ask something, someone would begin to answer only then that someone would be called away on an urgent matter. He was starting to think it was deliberate.

Whatever it was...it was driving him absolutely crazy.

However, he held his peace. The middle of a major briefing was probably not the place to throw a temper tantrum and demand answers. Instead, he redirected his attention to the screen where the recorded message was slowly coming to an end.

"Starfleet is not going to believe this one." Kasha commented from beside him, her impossibly dark eyes fixed on the screen. "The very suggestion of it..."

"They'll believe it." Sara disagreed. "There's no way in the world I would've given out those codes under duress." She smiled somewhat unpleasantly. "Starfleet Intelligence goes to great lengths to ensure they stay secure. Operatives would not reveal them under torture or telepathic manipulation. That woman, whatever she looks like, is me. I did - will - travel back to the 22nd Century and saved - will save - Commander Tucker's life so that he can come forward through time and alert me..."

"Anyone else getting a headache from all of this?" Will complained, rubbing at his forehead. "All right, so we know a lot more than we did. We've got a pretty good idea of why you went back Sara, and how you found out about it in the first place, the questions that remain now...are how? And for how long?"

"The _Valiant_." Kitara answered almost his first question almost before he'd finished it. "We know that it's possible to use the warp engines of a starship to propel that ship backward in time to a predetermined date. Soleta can do those computations with the information Commander Reed provided in her message. The surgery can be done aboard ship." She slanted a look at Ren. "Something tells me you already know how."

"Well, I don't like to brag but..." Ren inclined her head gracefully. "It'll take a few hours, there's a matter of some genetic work but...yes. I can do it here."

"All that remains is contacting Intelligence and getting the permission to go." Sara observed. "That won't take long at all." She sighed and sat back in her chair. "Guess Caspiria Prime will have to wait."

"If it's any consolation," Deanna teased with a little smile, "with time travel, theoretically you could return within moments of leaving...You won't miss a thing."

"I hate theoretical." The Intelligence agent countered, grinning despite herself. "But, you're not wrong there Counselor." She shook her head again. "You're not the only one getting a headache with all of this Captain. I expect Dr. Ren's going to have a line up of senior staff looking for analgesics."

"I'll have them lined up and ready." Ren assured.

"You don't seem to be having any trouble with this." Trip commented, looking at the Trill. Who, true to his words, was sitting back and observing the proceedings as calmly and elegantly as though she were discussing the latest crew status reports.

His words had Taija grinning. "Of course not. You forget, I've had a few lifetimes to get used to all of this."

"Another thing I've gotta adjust to." He countered with an aggravated expression.

"You think it's bad just finding out about it?" Kitara grinned. "Ren's previous host? Sponsored me at the Academy. He was a really great guy...if you ignored the penchant for salt sticks." She feigned a dramatic shudder. "Filthy habit."

"They were." Ren agreed while Trip's shock deepened.

"Taija used to be a _man_?!"

The officers sitting at the table burst out laughing despite the preoccupation with the upcoming mission. Sara among them, despite the fact her laughter was somewhat distracted. It was an old habit, while she was conversed with those around her, her mind was already going through the thousand and one different things that would be required to prepare. "You, Commander Tucker, are going to enjoy this century."

Trip wasn't entirely in agreement. He sat back, feeling quite overwhelmed by everything all at once, and it was a bit like drowning he suspected. "Somehow, Commander...I'm not so sure." He looked up at her, took in the amusement in her eyes, and managed a wry smile. "Malcolm'd probably get a kick out of all this too. Guess his sense of humor must've been a hereditary thing."

"Oh I don't doubt it." She agreed before admitting. "I was wondering if you would connect the names. Reed isn't terribly common but it isn't all that rare either."

"Guess we know at least part of what happened to Malcolm." Trip observed to Soleta.

The Vulcan lifted a brow, conveying her thoughts on the matter easily. "Only a very small part." She put forward, and Trip had the distinct feeling he was being teased. "I assure you, when it comes to the _Enterprise_ nothing is ever a simple story. Nothing indeed."

\-----

"Somewhere right now, Jean Luc Picard is laughing at me and he probably doesn't even know why."

Will's dry comment made Deanna lift her head from where it had been resting on his bare chest to grin at him. "Then I should probably get up and send him a message. If he's laughing, he deserves to know why he's doing so." She let her grin turn just the tiniest bit wicked as she crossed her arms on him and settled her chin atop them. She looked into his eyes and felt a thrill go through her at the expression in them. That he could still do this to her after so long...She loved it. "Especially considering..."

"You," her husband began solemnly, "are a cruel and sadistic woman, Deanna Troi." He let a twinkle of amusement enter his eyes as he brushed his hands along the silken skin of her shoulders. "Sharing such intimate details with Jean Luc? You'll make the poor man jealous."

She smiled mirthfully. "Of who exactly?"

"I'm not sure if I should be offended or complimented by *that* one." Will countered immediately, reaching up to brush her dark hair away from her face. "But it's a moot point anyway."

"Is it now?" She moved into his touch, eyes half shut, like a Terran cat enjoying the attention. "Why would that be exactly?"

He grinned roguishly then pulled her close for a kiss. "Simple, I don't feel like sharing you with anybody. A very archaic sentiment, I know, but I can appreciate history."

"And you accuse me of being bad." His wife teased, brushing her lips over his. "Compared to you..."

"You're a master." He finished, making her chuckle. "Don't even try and convince me otherwise. I've known you - and your mother - entirely too long for that."

Deanna tucked her chin and looked at him. "Will..." She tried to hold the wounded expression but failed as her laughter spilled over. "You're terrible." She kissed him again. 'But I love you anyway.'

Which he knew without a doubt. The depth if it surprised him still. It always would, he suspected. The sheer intensity of the connection had always been something that both confused, fascinated, and scared the hell out of him. It'd grown into so much more than that, of course, it was now the base on which his life rested but it still never ceased to surprise and amaze him. That was something he hoped it would always do.

Understanding the direction of his thoughts, Deanna smiled at him but said nothing of it. Instead, she commented on the thing which lingered in the back of his mind. Sara Reed's upcoming departure. Word had come from Starfleet and it hadn't surprised any of them. "This concerns you."

"Of course it does." He sighed, hands moving over her shoulders and hair once more. "Playing with time is a headache at the best of times. At others, it's downright risky. We came so close with Cochrane and the Phoenix..."

"Closer than even we were aware." She observed, nodding. Trip's word that the NX-01 had been attacked by the Borg. Borg leftover from the _Enterprise_'s battle in orbit..."Sara's a competent officer. She's a good choice for the mission - you said so yourself - and she won't be alone. The _Valiant_ will be going along as support."

"But she'll be alone aboard the _Enterprise_ itself and that's not going to be a situation she's ever had to deal with. There isn't a child born on Earth who doesn't know who Jonathan Archer was...I could tell you the _NX-01_'s crew complement and senior staff roster before I was five. I can't imagine serving with them on a day to day basis and not letting it slip." He looked faintly sheepish. "We couldn't keep it from Cochrane for one night."

Deanna laughed. "It's not the same thing, Will. Zefram already knew something was wrong and people turning up he'd never met before...we were as inconspicious as a Klingon in a room full of Tribbles. Sara will be going in as a MACO, deployed to the _Enterprise_ at Starfleet's request. One among many. She's done this before..." She looked chagrined. "I'm afraid neither you nor I have that much experience with intelligence work."

He gave her a roguish grin and she immediately knew what was coming. "Oh I don't know Major...you make a pretty good member of the Tal Shiar..." His grin widened as he added, "I liked the ears."

The look that appeared on his wife's face was one of merry insolence as she calmly responded, "Ohhh...really, so that's why you wanted Soleta aboard, you have an ear fetish!" She lifted up to survey him with her most professional expression. "This could prove to be quite the problem you know. The Captain obsessed with the shape of a woman's ear. Perhaps, just to be safe, I should go down to Sickbay and see if Ren's done with Sara's surgerical alterations. She can add points to my ears while she's at it and then you can stare at mine..." Her lips curved up into a smirk as she added, "Wouldn't want your science officer lodging a complaint with Starfleet Command now would we?"

"Very funny." Will said with a snort of laughter as he rolled them, pinning her down and grinning at her. "Don't even think about touching those ears, Counselor. I'm quite attached to them the way they are." Leaning down, he ghosted his lips along the curve of one, making her shiver. "In fact, I think they're my favorite body part. So very soft...and the curve...Very inviting."

She shivered again despite the laughter that bubbled up. "You're crazy." She informed him around a giggle.

"That your professional opinion, Counselor?" He teased, pulling away to regard her with a very Vulcan-like raised brow. "Or just a hunch?"

"You're waxing poetic about my ears, Will..." Managing to hold back her giggle, she gave him a chiding look. "That's hardly an ear mark of sanity."

"Pardon the pun?" He pointed out before grinning. "Well, all right, perhaps I am a little crazy but after all these years, finding out I'm crazy in love with you should be a credit to you. To hear you talk, it's anything but."

"Oh, don't make that mistake." She drew him downward, kissing him deeply. "I'll never complain about this. Trust me." Her laughter faded as they traded kisses back and forth before she added, "Never..."

When Deanna's hands slipped beneath the sheets, Will couldn't help teasing, _'No interruptions this time, Imzadi.'_

His wife's throaty laugh rippled through their thoughts as she agreed, _'No interruptions...I'm holding you to that. Again...'_

\-----

"Well?" Sliding off the biobed, Sara stood before her audience with a curious expression on her surgically-face. "How do I look?" She turned in a slow circle for their inspection then stopped and awaited their opinions.

"Seeing it in person, I'm sure of it. I wouldn't know it was you if you walked up and told me as much." Will commented finally, taking in the newly-lengthened and colored dark blonde hair, the slender, elegant features, the willowy figure. If he concentrated, he could imagine where signs of the woman he knew as Sara Reed still existed but the woman that now stood before him was a stranger. "Incredible."

"That's not the word for it." Trip put in, his reaction containing a good deal more surprise. "If I didn't know better, I'd swear I was lookin' at MacKenzie. You even *sound* like her."

Sara chuckled and touched a hand to her throat. "A very tiny implant. Undetectable to 22nd century Starfleet sensors. I admit, that's the part which takes the most getting used to for me. The change in my vocal patterns, accent, inflections...the surgical alterations don't impact nearly as much as speaking and hearing someone else's voice saying the words." She took the mirror that Ren was holding and surveyed her features. "Impressive work, Doctor." She complimented. "The surgeons Intelligence employs couldn't do better and they've got Starfleet Medical's facilities at their disposal."

"Why thank you, Commander. Knowing those surgeons...I'll take that as high praise." Taija chuckled at the look her captain gave her. "What? You think you were the only offer I got after I left the Science Academy?" She shrugged, grinning. "As fun as the odd spat of cosmetic surgery is...I much prefer the challenges of starship duty to patching up intelligence agents. No offense intended, Commander."

"None taken." Sara assured with a laugh. "There are days I'm not sure I should've ever said yes to this job either." Admitting to a rare case of nerves, she added, "This day would be among them."

"I was going to ask if you were nervous," Will put in, "but..."

"You didn't want to call attention to the fact that a spy shouldn't be that easily read?" His old friend laughed. "If I cared that you knew, Will, you wouldn't know. I'm not *that* easily read."

"Well then, I stand corrected." He countered, amused.

The conversation lulled then and never one to miss a hint, Taija stepped back. "I think I'm going to go grab a mug of raktajino and congratulate myself on my superior surgical ability. Care to join me, Commander Tucker? We can swap stories about the good old days of the 22nd century."

Trip hadn't missed the unspoken message from the other two officers anymore than the doctor had and gallantly, he offered her an arm. "Be my pleasure, Doc. I'd buy but...I'm afraid I'm a bit short on pay."

"Oh, I imagine that won't last long." She said, walking with him to the door. "Starfleet does technically owe you two hundred years back pay...that's going to be a pretty penny. If, that was, we still used pennies."

When they were alone, Sara looked up at Riker and commented, "Your doctor's quite the character isn't she?"

"More like five different characters." He joked, nodding. "Things're never boring in Sickbay, I'll grant you that. She keeps an old style hypodermic needle around here somewhere for when she gets a troublesome patient. Tells me that humans have an instinctive fear of them which goes to the genetic level." He feigned a shudder. "I'm inclined to believe her. Damn thing gives me the willies."

Perching himself on the edge of a nearby biobed, he got down to the business at hand. "When do you and the _Valiant_ leave?"

"Just as soon as Soleta finishes the computations for the trip." Sara responded, sitting down on a biobed as well. "I'd've used my own science officer for this but, with one of the best in the 'Fleet at my disposal and time of the essence - pardon the pun - I asked her."

"It's a good idea. She's got more than her fair share of experience in these matters." Will stopped, considering his next sentence carefully. "Am I permitted to know what your standing orders are for this? I'm talking about the ones that go beyond 'go back there and find out what the hell Archer knows and how he knows it'...we both know that's not even the beginning of it."

"The Borg." She responded bluntly. "Starfleet has no record of an encounter with the Borg in the 22nd century. No logs from the _NX-01_ and no reports in other Starfleet Command records either yet Commander Tucker can recall an incident with them and information being provided by Starfleet Command.." She inhaled slowly, buying herself time before admitting, "The Temporal Prime Directive comes into play here, Will...between then and the _Enterprise_'s first contact with the Borg, your _Enterprise_ that is, those records disappeared."

"And the standing theory is that you're the reason they disappeared." He realized aloud. "You've been ordered to erase them."

"I have." Sara nodded. "The decision wasn't made easily, I know that much, some people were of the opinion it should be left alone, perhaps reduce the casualties at Wolf 359...perhaps, prevent it from ever happening..."

Will closed his eyes, thinking of his former Captain and the hell that the Borg had put him through. The guilt he carried over the battle...the lives and ships lost..."I'm probably not the right person to be telling this to." He admitted. "My gut reaction is to agree with those people."

"But the officer in you is telling you something else." She sighed. "Yes, I know. I'm feeling the same. I can't imagine how interfering with foreknowledge of the Borg could make things worse but...How can we take the chance? What could we inadvertently make worse? Someone is already messing around in time and we have know way of ever knowing what that's done to us. For all we know, the Federation we exist in now might pale in comparison to the one that existed in the original timeline. We have no idea what's been done and what's been changed. Whether for the better or the worse..."

"True." He rubbed at his forehead and exhaled heavily. "Deanna and I'll be having a go round on this one for a while." He smiled wryly. "Sometimes I think time travel was the worst discover Starfleet and the Federation ever made."

"It changes the story." Sara agreed. "It's one reason I never liked those Choose Your Own Adventure books people so loved to write in the 20th century. My grandmother had some in her attic and I found them when I was a very little girl. I loved reading them at first but then she pointed something out to me. Whenever I made a decision and ended up some place I didn't like, I just went back to the previous choice and went the other way. That, she told me, defeated the purpose of it. Living with our choices is something every person must do. Having the ability to go back and change those choices if we don't like the outcome...It takes away the weight of making the choice to begin with. It becomes no choice at all."

"Your grandmother was a smart woman." Will commented with a little smile.

"Naturally." She gave him an aristocratic look which, no matter what her facial features, was vintage Sara. "She was a Reed afterall."

"So, 'when' exactly did you plan on making the switch?"

"With Corporal MacKenzie?" Sara waited for his nod of agreement before answering. "Just shortly after the Xindi assault on Earth. Things will be chaotic enough that no one will notice if I'm a little off at first. Everyone will be behaving out of character at that point. It wouldn't surprise anyone if the good Corporal makes a comment or two that seems out of character for her."

"You won't have any problems getting to the intelligence on the Borg?" He couldn't imagine that part of her assignment would be particularly easy. Anything surrounding First Contact and Zefram Cochrane would be highly classified at best. Mysterious aliens who'd attacked Earth and then been inexplicably defeated... that was information which would definitely not be easily gotten to.

"Not likely." She said briskly. "I've had more difficult assignments given to me. Ones where security schedules, passcodes, subroutines, protocols and every possible detail of the shifts and facilities in question weren't available to me." She allowed a little smug grin at that. "I have to admit, as assignments go, that part will be almost child's play for me. It's not really a fair fight on that front. Starfleet Security won't even know I've been before I'm gone."

"True." Will agreed, smiling as well. "I hadn't thought about it that way. But you're right." When one took into account the differences in technology, experience and the plethora of data Starfleet had on its own past history... "It's a wonder they're sparing such a highly qualified agent for it."

She rolled her eyes at him. "Can you ever remain serious about anything for more than five minutes?"

"I can." He assured, eyes twinkling with mischief. "But in this case, even the serious parts of the conversation have an air of incredulity about them so, I admit, it's proving to be a challenge this time. You can't tell me it's lost on you, Sara. Sitting here having a perfectly serious conversation about time travel and breaking an entering into a facility which both you and I have free access to everytime we visit Earth?"

Ducking her head, Sara laughed. "Oh I can most definitely assure you this isn't lost on me either, Will. Rest assured that it isn't lost on me." She paused then admitted, "History is such a nebulous thing. Looking back at it, one *knows* it had to have happened in order for you to be here, for all of this to be here, but the very idea of coming face to face with it, walking around in the midst of it...they were so very vulnerable back then, especially when compared to today. The _NX-01_ didn't even have *shields*, Will. The schematics show they used polarized hull plating." She shook her head in disbelief, aggravated by the sudden swing of her now-long hair. "The idea of letting a ship go into deep space so under protected...It's a bloody miracle they lived long enough to even begin founding the Federation."

"It is." Will agreed. "But they did." He got up and walked over to lay a hand on her shoulder. "Are you sure you can handle this? This one's not going to be like anything you've ever faced before."

"That I am extremely aware of." She looked up at him with confused eyes. "I know my duty, I know my orders, and I will see to both. I can do no less...it just..." Sara smiled faintly. "Won't be easy. But..."

"We didn't sign on for easy." He finished for her with a nod. "Yeah, I remember that one myself." He paused then grinned. "Look at it from this perspective...you've already succeeded. There's only the little matter of actually completing the mission to contend with now."

"Oh yes." Sara noted dryly. "Just that little old thing. Nothing to it."


	6. Future Tense

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well...they say no one ever really dies in Star Trek...they're not wrong.

"So she's just gone?" Trip made no attempts to cover his disbelief as he watched Soleta very efficiently, and calmly, work on a rather large salad. "Just like that? No goodbyes, no bon voyages, just...gone."

"Commander Reed is an Intelligence officer, Commander," she responded, putting down her fork and folding her hands before her. "She is unaccustomed to 'bon voyages' as you call them as she has never received one when leaving for an assignment. The logic being when one is attempting covert duties, one does not wish to call attention to them."

He smiled wryly at her over his mug of coffee. "Very funny, Soleta."

"I was not attempting levity."

"Sure you weren't. You weren't attempting levity and I just sprouted a set of Andorian antennae."

She arched a brow at him. "Are you quite well, Trip? You seem to be experiencing a delusional state."

He grinned full on. "See, that's humor." He put down his mug and leaned on the table, letting his gaze travel the ship's lounge. "It just feels...odd. Y'know, we have one briefing with her, she asks me a bunch of questions, has a little nip and tuck in Sickbay and she's gone again. It's almost..."

"Anti-climatic?" Soleta supplied, returning to her salad.

"Yeah, pretty much. Like there should've been something else to this. A big fight or something, someone trying to stop her from going back. I mean, if these guys are trying to monkey around with history...wouldn't they know?" Trip frowned, considering it. He was beginning to see what the others meant by their comments about time travel and headaches. "If it's already happened and they're interfering with our past from their present..."

"Would they not already know we have made this attempt?" She nodded. "Theoretically it is indeed possible they would be able to be aware of our attempt. However, at this point in time, there have been no official records filed in Starfleet Command's records about this and it is quite possible that something will occur in the future that will prevent them from altering this event. This would be a difficult time period for them to interfere with. Starfleet has a greater experience with time travel, our technological level is advanced enough we are able to detect the key signatures which would indicate that it has occurred, there is also the aspect of a united quadrant. In all likelihood, any attempts made in this century to foil Commander Reed's mission would be doomed to fail. I am able to think of several starships within our reach who would come to our aid if we required it. Any resulting combat would be, indeed, difficult however..." She paused to take a swallow of liquid from her glass before continuing on, "It would be more logical to avoid combat in this century, combat which would put Starfleet on alert to the attempted interference in time, and simply attempt to harm the commander in the 22nd century when she isn't as highly protected as she is here."

"Why make a fuss and get you interested when they can just get to her then when all she's got is the _Valiant_ and _Enterprise_ to back her up. Not that _Enterprise_'d be much help. They don't know who she really is or what she's really doin' there. A MACO dies in combat...happens all the time. One of the risks of the job..." He nodded, a rueful look on his face. "I see your point. Think she'll be all right?"

"Commander Reed is a highly competent officer." Soleta affirmed. "The _Valiant_ is not a particularly large ship but it is built for combat and missions of this nature. If she has need of it's protection, it would be able to move in and help then be gone before the _Enterprise_ could react. With the cloaking device, it has the ability to remain close by and avoid detection. There is a great deal of risk involved, I will not deceive you as to otherwise...however..."

"You think she stands a pretty good chance." Trip sat back and surveyed the meal before him. Replicated steak wasn't so bad really and he was kind of getting used to the coffee. Mostly. 'Think Starfleet'll let us know if and when she comes back?"

"Unlikely." Finishing her salad, she paused then quietly said, "However, I would not put it past Sara to do so on her own."

That made him grin again. "You think she would?"

"Indeed. I am sure Sara is aware you would wish to know of her well-being and that of your shipmates' as well."

"Got me." He confessed with a nod. "I think it's startin' to sink in that I'm never gonna see 'em again. I mean, I'd gotten to accepting the whole idea before I went in for the surgery. But...now everything's different and nothing's the same and I don't know what the hell I'm doing here." He sighed heavily. "I'm two hundred years out of date, Soleta. What the hell am I gonna do here? Go back to Florida and take up wind surfing or somethin'?"

"I do not doubt you would be welcome among the Tucker family..." She began slowly. "But I admit, the majority of us have grown accustomed to the idea of having you here. I do believe the Captain has plans to offer you a permanent place in the crew."

"Why?" Trip pressed. "Ain't like he needs me here. He's got an Engineering staff that'd put me to shame. Hell, the greenest rookie Drew's got down there is more experienced than I am."

"Do not confuse experience with technological knowledge. Yes, you are unfamiliar with many of the technologies Starfleet currently employs. But you will not always be so, that will change." Soleta assured. "Your mind is predisposed to learning at a vastly accelerated rate, it will not be difficult to assist you in becoming as experienced as they are. It is confusing, I am aware of that..." she leaned closer, meeting his gaze. "We do not leave our own behind, Commander." He didn't miss her deliberate use of his rank instead of his name. "No matter what century they are from or how they came to be. I assure you, you will come to regard this ship as home. This ship and this century."

"So basically shut up and trust you on this one?" He teased.

"I would not put it into that wording precisely..." she hedged. "But yes." Picking up her glass, she surveyed the liquid within it momentarily. "I cannot begin to imagine how disorienting this experience has been for you. In all my experiences, none have ever hoped to approach what you have gone through but I can assure you, people have done this before. They have survived and even thrived." Though he'd relaxed some, she could still read the uncertainty in his body language and found herself thinking of the stories she had heard at her godfather's knee. "You asked that I tell you some stories of my father and the _Enterprise_...there is one that comes to mind now which you may find useful."

"Other than the one about your Dad's friend?" Trip looked surprised. "How many of these time travel stories are connected to _Enterprise_ anyway?"

Soleta cleared her throat then admitted, "Far more than you would consider chance." She then named a number and awaited his reaction.

"You're kidding right?" Before she could answer, he held up a hand to forestall the comment. "Never mind. Forgot who I was talking to there for a minute." Putting down his mug, he leaned his elbows on the table and watched her with interest. "Okay, so this _Enterprise_ Curse business isn't so far off the mark. You were saying something about your father?"

"Actually, this would more accurately be about one of my godfathers. His best friend. James T. Kirk."

The name rang a bell and he nodded. "Counselor Troi mentioned him. Supposed to be the real legend connected to _Enterprise_."

"He is." Soleta agreed. "There is an entire course taught at the Academy surrounding Captain Kirk. He is a figure around which there is much debate. I am told he is a figure in the Federation's history of which there is little chance of having an ambiguous opinion. He is either loved. Or he is hated. There is very little in the way of middle ground." She stopped as one of the lounge's attendants stepped in and picked up their plates and took their orders for dessert.

"I'm tellin' you," Trip commented as an aside, "this place is gonna spoil me. The food in this place is amazing..."

"I will pass your compliment along to the proprietor." She assured before continuing her story. "I have heard this tale myself many times, Uncle Len often told it to me as a bedtime story. A custom among human children I believe. My father and his crewmates had left Vulcan and were returning to Earth to face court martial when an unusual probe came to Starfleet's attention. It was traveling toward Earth emitting a signal directed toward the planet's oceans. My father determined the signal to be that of humpback whale song."

"But humpback whales are extinct." Trip interrupted, frowning. "Have been for years."

"Indeed and therein lay Earth's problem. The probe began disrupting weathernets that regulated the weather patterns worldwide. Thus, causing massive upheaval in those weather patterns. The weather was growing increasingly unstable and violent. Beyond that which would even be considered remotely normal. Uncle Jim and the others came to the decision there was only one solution. Find humpbacks to answer the probe's signal...a decision which necessitated traveling backward in time to the 20th century when and where those whales could be found." A teasing gleam, or the Vulcan variation thereof, entered Soleta's eyes. "You may be now seeing where the _Enterprise_ Curse originated."

"I'm beginning to yeah." He sat back and tried to make sense of what she had told him. It sounded...well, to be honest, it sounded absolutely nuts. "They traveled to the 20th century to get a *whale*?!"

"Whales." Soleta corrected. "It was an attempt to repopulate the species. There, they located a pair of humpbacks which they then, through a very unusual and highly irregular turn of events, managed to retrieve them and bring them to the 23rd century with them."

"Time traveling whales..." Trip shook his head then rested his chin in his palm. "I've officially heard everything."

"You have not, I can assure you of this. In the missions of just the Enterprises which my father served aboard, this one story is but one in a vast multitude." She almost smiled. Or, at least, to his eyes she very nearly did. It might've been a simple tightening of her facial muscles but he was going with smile. "However, I was not entirely finished with my tale. In the attempt to retrieve the whales, Uncle Jim and my father encountered a woman who worked with them. Dr. Gillian Taylor. She eventually discovered what their true interest in the whales was. At first, she did not believe the story. It was fantastical at the very best and for a woman living in the society of 20th century Earth it was far easier to believe they were insane than to consider the story truth."

"But she did believe them eventually?" He asked, watching her with interest, wanting intently to know the answer. He knew was getting the bare basics of this story and that was enough for now but someday, when he knew Soleta better, he was going to get her to tell him just what exactly that very unusual and highly irregular turn of events entailed. "She had to have, right?"

"She did." Soleta assured as the attendant returned with their desserts. Trip's was his favorite pie but hers was something he didn't recognize.

"Vulcan dish?"

She shook her head. "Trill. A favorite of Ren's. It is their equivalent of chocolate." Pushing the plate toward him, she waited for him to take a spoonful as she added, "Gillian had grown very attached to the whales who were to have been introduced back into the wild where they were prey for poachers. When she realized that the story was indeed true and that they were there to rescue the whales and take them somewhere they would not be hunted...she wished to join them." Taking her plate back, she observed his reaction to the treat with approving eyes. "The Trill have been allies and friends of the Vulcans as long as Humans have. First contact with them was made during the same period as yours."

"Oh yeah? Remind me to ask the Doc about that." He commented, licking his lips. "Damn that's stuff is good."

"It is." Soleta nodded.

"So, Gillian?" Trip made no attempt to be subtle as he grinned at her, awaiting the rest of her story. "C'mon, for once somebody needs to finish telling me the story and I know it doesn't end there. There's not a chance that's the end of it."

"You would be correct. That is not the end of it. Gillian made a rather foolhardy choice and jumped into a transporter beam with Jim..." She trailed off at the shocked look on his face.

"She could have been _killed_!"

"She indeed could have," Soleta agreed calmly. "She was not and chose to return to the 23rd century with the whales. Her logic was such that she had considered whether or not there would be experts on whale in that time period. As the humpback species was extinct, she theorized there would not be."

"And they went for that?" Trip looked surprised. "She just said, 'hey, you don't have any whale experts, you're gonna need one so I'm coming along' and they actually went for it?" When she again nodded, he shook his head slightly in disbelief. "I'll be damned. So she just went back to the 23rd century with them and set up shop with her whales?"

"It was a great deal more complicated than simply 'setting up shop', Trip. Gillian required complete and detailed education on life in her new time. Ideas considered basic scientific fact by inhabitants of the Federation were nothing more than flights of fancy to her. For example, the basic principles of warp drive were little more than science fiction in her understanding. The words space travel brought to mind images of rockets being fired into orbit by NASA...the mechanics of the lives we lead were fantastical at best." Thus said, the Vulcan paused to take a bite of her dessert before continuing, "Upon her arrival, she did indeed see to it the whales were safe and properly tended to. Once this was completed, she joined a science expedition in deep space. There, she decided, she would learn to adjust. I did take the liberty of consulting further records, however, I lack sufficient data to postulate on her state of mind once that education process was complete."

"Okay, so you can't say for sure whether or not she liked her new time period. What can you say?" He looked curious. "Did she have a regular life, or whatever passed for regular in the 23rd century?" He'd thought things were different in the century of his birth. The 24th century was downright mystifying and he understood basic warp theory. He couldn't imagine how it would be for someone from pre-warp Earth. It would had to have been one hell of an adjustment.

"I can say she married, had children, and died of natural causes having past well over one hundred years of life." Soleta answered succinctly. "I would say that indeed passes as what humans would consider a regular life."

"And I'd say you were right. Sounds to me like she adjusted just fine." Trip stole another bite of her dessert. "I'd also say there's not much you miss."

"Indeed not." She returned crisply, blocking his hand with a jab of her fork. "I would be of little use to Captain Riker as a Science Officer if I did." Not missing the fleeting look of nostalgia which passed over his features, she inclined her head. "Is there something else you wish to say? I would ask if there was something troubling you, however considering all the circumstances, I would be very surprised if there was not."

When Trip hesitated and still did not speak, Soleta nodded in understanding. "Perhaps you would be more comfortable discussing these matters with Counselor Troi. She is a talented and quite intuitive woman. I have personally found her to be of great assistance over the years."

Her calm admission that she'd availed of Deanna Troi's counseling services surprised Trip. Or, more accurately, shocked him. He couldn't imagine Vulcans actually stooping to actually acknowledging or visiting a psychologist...then admitting it was beyond incomprehensible. Somewhere in history, he figured, T'Pol had to be having the Vulcan equivalent of a fit.

She seemed to sense the direction of his thoughts and Trip could have sworn she smiled in response. Except, she didn't. Her facial expression remained unchanged but...nevertheless, it felt as if she had and he found himself returning it.

Soleta acknowledged the smile with a subtle motion of her eyes then said, "I believe you will find, Trip, that there is much which you believe about Vulcans which is not entirely so."

On that, she wasn't wrong but for all the things he was wrong about, there was one thing he was sure he'd gotten right.

Vulcans? Made the biggest understatements in history.

\-----

Settling in at their usual table, Will looked over at his science officer and their guest. He took in the sight of them conversing quietly then turned to his wife as she sat beside him. "They look comfortable."

Deanna watched the dining companions for a moment then laughed, picking up on his intimations. "Don't read too much into it, Will. Soleta's been sharing stories from the _Enterprise_, I suggested Trip ask her to. He's very curious about the other _Enterprise_s which followed the _NX-01_." She looked down at the food on her plate, contemplating which to try first. How she'd let herself get talked into trying Ren's favorite dishes, she didn't quite know. Calling the Trill's tastes mercurial was being generous. She selected an innocent looking vegetable and looked up at her husband. "You know if Soleta catches you watching them..."

"There'll be all sorts of hell to pay?" He finished with a wicked little grin. "I know. But do you realize how long it's been since I've been able to tease Soleta about *her* lovelife?"

"Never," she reminded a grin of her own. "As far we know, she doesn't even *have* one. Soleta's never mentioned it." She sat back, considering it. "For all we know and for all she's not said, Ambassador Spock and the Lady Saavik might have chosen to follow the tradition. Every time we've had leave long enough, she's gone home. She very well may have a bondmate there."

He cocked a brow at her, deliberately parodying the infamous Vulcan habit. "Deanna..." _You don't believe that one anymore than I do._

Sensing his concern Soleta might inadvertently overhear, neither of them were exactly how good her hearing was, Deanna chose to respond in kind. The conversation was definitely taking on a less whimsical tone, _True, all things considered, it's highly unlikely...but a possibility nonetheless._

Unlikely was a delicate way of phrasing it. Among the civilian population of the Federation, indeed even most of Starfleet, it was not common knowledge but...there were a precious few to whom it was known Soleta's grandparents had followed tradition with her father. Only, in his case, it had somehow ended very badly. Exactly what had happened, that no one knew save for Admiral McCoy and the Ambassador and his family. Neither McCoy, James T. Kirk nor Spock himself had ever recorded in their logs what had happened when the _NCC-1701_ had abruptly diverted to Vulcan for the nuptials. When some in Starfleet's upper ranks had attempted to find out they'd suddenly found themselves pressed down under the weight of Vulcan's political power. Ambassador Sarek had promptly invoked the Rule of Silences and the Eldest Mother of the House had seen little to stop her from taking on the curious officers. T'Pau had little problem with bending the Federation Council to her will, a few errant Starfleet officers were not a difficulty. She had enlightened them on the Rule, an archaic edict set down by Surak himself which was followed to the letter by modern day Vulcan society. They would not force Sarek or Spock, nor his human friends, to break it and they never had. The Rule of Silences governed many things in Vulcan culture and they held to it tightly. A century later the details of the failed ceremony were not spoken of.

Whatever happened, it had been bad enough that the ordinarily private Spock had become downright reclusive in the time which followed the end of the five year mission. Even after returning to Starfleet, he had remained isolated. By choice it was said. Only his fellow crewmates and scant others had been welcome for many years.

Sharing those thoughts and a look with his wife, Will turned to look in his science officer's direction again. "I'd hate to see that happen to her..." He sighed. "Sometimes I think it already has."

Deanna heard as much as sensed the concern, affection, and protectiveness in her husband's voice and it made her smile. On the _Enterprise_, Will had always been protective of the crew. In many ways it was part and parcel with the job, it was the first officer's duty to see to the crew's needs. It ensured that they were at their best when the Captain needed them. But with Will, he'd always taken it a step further. Time and duty constraints had kept him from becoming as involved as he'd wished but he had always managed to find the time to consult with Deanna and Beverly. If they knew of any crewmembers requiring special attention they were the ones to know. Kitara did the same with Deanna and Taija. Will would say it was the mark of a good XO but Deanna knew differently. Just as she knew that with the promotion and the new ship, Will had taken it a step further still. Much as Picard before him, the mantle of responsibility had settled on him. But, with more than a little pride, she knew he wore it well.

Smiling, she leaned in to kiss him. "I love you," she paused then added in a low voice, "Captain."

An echoing smile stole across his face and his fingers curled around hers as his emotions flared up and his desire surged through her. In years past, he would have had to ask what exactly it was that had brought her words on but not anymore. Not now. He already knew.

Whispering his love in return, Will rubbed his thumb over the ring she wore which represented that love. Sometimes it was a difficult thing to believe. Where they were. How far they'd come. It was the same difficulty he suspected Commander Tucker was facing. The underlying disbelief, a sense of everything being surreal, every moment feeling a bit like a dream. It was almost impossible to believe the circumstances they both found themselves in were real. Will, captain of his own ship, happily married to Deanna....Trip in a century far removed from the one he'd been born into in a galaxy which didn't really look the same. Believing it was real was a challenge sometimes but...

Will loved a challenge and he suspected so did the commander.

Tucker looked over as if aware of the Captain's scrutiny and Will nodded in acknowledgment. A nod the newcomer returned with a faint smile before turning back to his dining companion.

'Welcome to the 24th century, Commander,' Will said to himself silently, remembering his first conversation with Trip. 'Hope you enjoy your stay.'


End file.
